The weather is murky,
it offers a way out of the torment
by reminding me there is a poet
somewhere living life to its full potential
by doing the dishes to Nigerian 70's pop.
What appears to me now appears to be gone.
With fondness and respect we are intent
on that golden glum look.
There are 101 versions of doom that materialize
every morning. We advise "doom management."
Where there used to be woods
there are now fares, Snickers, and the Metro North.
Your final plans should end with a capture.
Let's get together and develop a sense
of being really grounded and active. Elegant protest?
How? Love alone is reason enough to get out of bed
every morning. So, so much.