vector

Okay, now that we've got National Poetry Month out of the way, let's get back to the reality. Try to keep up...I'm accelerating.

our hungers define us
but they do not consign us
to hell
hell
well, we're catching on fire
as we define our desire
the flintlock thrown rock
of yesterday's mental technologies
melted and belted to sacrifice
thrown in the volcano
because we couldn't figure out what else to do.
I used to know: Pick a vector and go
and when it felt right, throttle up and let
the slam of artificial gravity
feel real as you left only vapour trails
and some Delphic quote, tattoo'd on your tongue
to ward against dung and deprivations
when you are dying, so hungry for truth
you just close your eyes and dream memory.
we are our own trivia. distracted
by shiny things we swallow to hollow
out our best pretensions, mentions in ink.
we think its enough to be remembered.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.