A hole in the head,
a head in the sand,
one foot in the past,
one foot in the grave,
hunched over and straddling
the Present.
Abstract oblivion is
exhausting but we’re well-rehearsed,
and ever so familiar with
everyday Apocalypses
and customary dread.
It's old hat.
It's easy for us to remember Cold Wars,
Hot Wars, Star Wars, depressions,
divorces, heroes turned villains,
icons torn down, disappointments,
sell-outs, and deep resentments
for the world inherited.
Passing down this negligent obsolescence,
to new generations, who are weary with activism,
tired of active shooter drills, bored with outrage,
inconvenienced by extreme violence, and generally
no longer have the
capacity to care.
Maybe the era of half-dead old men
trying to leads waves of middle
aged malcontents and young trauma
survivors will end, and a generation less
scarred by history will steer us
to pull our heads out of the sand.
To fill the holes in some heads, and put our feet together,
striding towards a future that includes all people,
grounded in the tangible needs of a global
populace, united in humanity, solidarity,
and in colors so bright that the drabness of
mediocrity will be nothing more than old fashioned.
Anyway, that’s what I think about,
when I think about Art.