i'm not fond of
the bitter taste left
between my
tongue and teeth
when
i think that
man has lost poetry
lost it to television
and to politics
eloquence has given way to arrogance and
ignorance
all perpetuated
and
punctuated by
each and every
politician
and
priest
and
poet
each and every
time
they
speak in malice

i wish to once more unravel
tall tales told
of fantasy and romance
of lovers and villains
where the only oil burns in lanterns in
great libraries named of kings
and not for presidents

i wish also to unravel
white wool pulled
to blind a people
and make them forget

(i am wondering
how can a white wool
blur the universe to grey?)

i fear i may be the first and only
to make this discovery
and thusly i
must be
the first to climb the mountain
and shout
and let the echoes of my revelation
thunder down as in spring
swelling rivers to flood
to wash the world in epiphany
(let understanding be their ark)
let this seep
to the deepest valley
and
let all of man sing
sing in every tongue

sing in poetry