Author Information
To Warm Us
The opiates of atmospheric pressure change
have been laid deep beneath the awareness of the nerve.
We cringe against the changing winds, the lucid absence of pattern,
and hate ourselves for choosing a lifestyle that forces us out.
The storms are empty, bellowed, wells of thirst
that cry in impotence and shower us with nothing but shade.
We wary them like angry gods and take to frantic drives
in search of the monotony we had temporarily lost.
We're all expecting on, all depending on,
a litany of golden light.
The start, the cleanse, the orgasm,
the rich and deep rejuvenation.
And once attained, if known and seen
it will promptly be forgotten in place of something new.
Just as all humanity,
is lost for lasting love;
it fills the void with things convenient -
things that may come and go abruptly.
But the folding months reveal to we,
who are lost among strangers in cramped hallways,
that we have nothing real left to achieve.
We're all alone and growing cold.
We want someone to warm us.
