IV

Heed not the darkened cataclysms of morning
And arise in the oppressive fallacy
Of asynchronous need,
Said the man who said strange things.
Your future has no driven desire
For the immaculate wastlings of uncommon perception
And the heterogeneous dislocation of
Fortuitous ideologies. So drop your
Battered dreams in the quagmires of wilfull absolution
And seek your neighbors’ needs.
No, we said, My Lord, help us balance
Magniloquence and altruism.
Lavish your loves with fast attention,
He pontificated, ever pedantic, and pressed on
Into the sunset of our visions.