Sunday, April 3, 2016

A Just Cause





In another life I must have been a painter
I painted the walls all around town
I’d sneak around and rattle my can
And in the dark I’d have my say
In the night

The words I’d choose, polite society
Would lose, or use the figures
Above the number keys to say
But they burst from my can with a hiss
And a laugh

I never meant to be profound
I never meant to say it all
Just one thought at a time
Just one concept
Only just one

In another life I must have been a potter
I put most everything around to fire
I’d rummage and salvage, dig and scavenge  
And guess what it’d do glued by patience and fire
To river clay

And the shapes I’d choose, polite society
Would use as the forms might figure
Into the rigor of their day to day
As they chased the mundane away
Raised to joy

I never meant to be profound
I never meant to say it all
Just one thought at a time
Just one concept
Only just one




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