LAMENTATIONS

by David Eide

Who possesses the naiveté necessary to make all things new again? Even the poet writes in his notebook, "find the ground from which to renew the senescent spirit." The traffic will not, all at once, fly and release their space to new configurations. Crowds of the unsuspecting are not suddenly struck blind and transformed out of their daily troubles into instants of pure joy. The media, tomorrow, will play the role of sadist to the passive audience.

What perceptions harness, now, the terrible world? He adds, dance on the earth in the dancing shadows of your ancestors.