Hubris Makes Me Wait

Hubris makes me wait For something better Which is all the poisonous tundra That my mind can take today So, let begin, the parade Streaming displays Traversing Through crowded gawkers Who sing and cling To verses, euphonic notions Of melodies and maladies Only recognizable to an audience Of unknown disparity, such as they And where am I Among the spectacular? And what am I Sans a vat of grilled confetti Noshing tastelessness A fine wine, mute of Spirit, grape and love? So I tell you Hope not bore you I am lathered In luscious deep directive Pleased and patient Marinate do I on Probable emphatic winds Maybe delaying inevitability Yet the flavor gains momentum Pungency stings with fire Latent explosions Gathering steam for the journey Ah, but to where And with who And will I know I'm there once arrived Do signs filter the highways Breathing life into the air Do crumbs resemble putrid possibilities Forming jagged lines that need Hindsight to impose the vistas Magnificent vistas Thomas Kinkade-manufactured plastic vistas With colors and images, vibrant like Disney cartoons, Fiestaware and Ethnic displays of solidarity Though color will go and I will follow As each hue, speaking eloquently To the rods and cones which make them so Evokes my mind, my worth My simple plan to live To descend In ways that Most journeys Lose themselves In ways, I suppose That many may be unable To reconcile Fallen by guile At least temporarily Until my essence At ease and defined In a fractured moment of humanity Is found once again At the destination My point of departure. (10/15/04)