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I’m a utopian at heart

but I have no delusions of Utopia.

I know I’ll be dead and buried

long before—

long before we can even think about it.

more than just a myth;

an actual paradise on Earth.

I’ll not be remembered

in a perfect world

all my flaws so apparent;

fatally wounded by pessimism.

I watch the fluff of rainbow villages

and fantasies of roaming the stars.

I feel all the dreams

as the air seeps out of the balloon--

indeed---

it was fun while it lasted

but alas the bubble has burst

and the humanoids are banished from Eden.

Not being Milton, I’ll make no attempt

at explaining the ways of God to man.

I’m not even sure I understand

and all the while

I see the cities aflame

with the dispassionate bullets

that prance across the streets

and penetrate human flesh;

the dripping blood

stuns me with its red fury.

It’s all so sad;

retreat to a Brave New World

and soma is not made available

for our consumption.

Systems failure!  Systems failure!

Ain’t that the truth

that we are always facing

Indeed. Te bubble has burst

and we are left here in the dark

empty hearts, shallow souls

adrift in this void

hopelessly floating away

in the outer stratosphere

through the space of consciousness

barely clinging to a string;

the illusions were lovely

they filled me with awe

made me feel alive

but like precious flowers

I find them wilting in Autumn air

thinking oh no, not this again

but this again it is.

November 6,1993