“Why should I worry about posterity? What has posterity ever done for me?”
The Sun is blazing, blazing, blazing.
A thread of the Sun pulls me along.
(I cannot say “forward.”
Like everyone, I’ve lost my sense of direction.)
Over the oldest mountains,
The Sun’s a throbbing marble.
It K.O.’s the pineal gland,
We can’t say “right” or “wrong” any longer.
We know no rhyme or reason.
Putter around the matter.
Under the Gulf of the New World Order,
A gash in the Earth gushes the Sun.
In the blackest obsidian mirror,
The Sun grates on our nerves.
Taken aback, you whisper:
“They say if you stare without staring (care without caring)
At these impossible mirrors,
You’ll see grim spirits dancing.”
Gary Corseri has published his articles and poems at Dandelion Salad, and hundreds of other sites and publications worldwide. His poems and dramas have been performed at the Carter Presidential Library and Museum, and on Atlanta-PBS. His books (available as e-books and hard-copy) include: Holy Grail, Holy Grail; A Fine Excess; and Manifestations. He can be contacted firstname.lastname@example.org.