LAMENTATIONS

by David Eide

He is surrounded by the constituents of a temporary place. And where, he says to no one, is the wisdom that shows me what animates the universe that surrounds us? I need it to take away the pervasive glum nature that hangs like the blankets from the dirty windows of a transient hotel. Ah, perhaps things are wrapped in a magnetic coil attracting opposites every step of the say.

Hail the opposites from the poets imagaintion! The tribes are full of them. They would fly far away from a spot they have found, protecting them from the worlds imagination.

Jewels! Packed deep inside a treasure-hoard, heaped up under the moss and shit of a homeless encampment with odd flags stuck up above and a child with a trowel digging his way to China.

What suspicions grip the people!

A good nature, the poet thinks, can be deeply cooked in its pulp.

A spirit is always on the verge of revenge.

He understand his privilege. The future! Machines will be dragged into the future by magnificent human beings who will see that they come in freedom and openness.