the gaping, torrential sound
of common ground uncommonly found,
as penitential parliamentarians share cement with
balaclava sleek and redwood hugging physique.
unique? the other world we seek
may be naïve sans bleak, peak
of human form when cooperation
was the norm. how soon we do
forget the ways of prehistory,
when everyone was simply too afraid
to manage all alone. the everything unknown.
babyfresh visions of something profound.
can these trademarks please come back
around?
