Easter, in the year of the plague, 2020

You don’t really need to believe anything

just look around

And see the change

And nothing promises anything.

Get away from the noise and look around

That’s all.

Rebirth, resurrection, reincarnation—call it

what you will

it’s real

in life

way beyond

what you could

ever know

so

don’t worry about it

just smell the air

hear the mating birds

get close to the flowers.

It’s all good.

Thoughts on Her Majesty “Freedom”

You believed

then

that you could go to her serenely

gleaming Majesty draped on her perch,

you could go and shout and sing

and march a throng, seek, appeal

beseech in common, sing, a march along

sense

her granulated succor, at least

you thought, the man-child you had become,

yes, that one, even then still believing.

And now you know, now, and for all she’s truly

now

a snarling, smirking Majesty, her shameful,

bronze, a hollow pose now

shambolic, and now a slothic

grubbing mocking grifter laughing

at flaccid, hoary hope, at angered

frozen bile, defiled and hammered.

You are now woefully inured

to scum, soloing your bleats into

the blue green darkness.