Stoplight Friction

So easy, today, to say
I don't know
what to believe anymore.

Presidential is otherwise;
dieting - upside down;
beauty turns inside out
and up the standards again.

And all this time
you're suspcious
of the end: you'd
like to know
if God is swallowing or 
Darwin has gone down with the ship.

Do you feel
alone
most all the time,
looking up
and navigating by
the shirttailes of fireflies 
you're plucking from a sky
that never resembles
the same depression twice?

Walnuts cascading
alongside the rivers that cut
through the valley of kings
in the almond milk factories
where duty goes with roses
allowing, on either side,
a tale to turn
imaginary
and kiss off our reflection,
blasting loosely into the carpool of stars.

What a journey it is to discover;
to trespass the groundwork that
all those who passed before us
worked so hard to lay before you.

At this moment you could be 
the citizen
of an emptiness United
or the Angel of reason
reading freely from the excerpts of time.
What you choose to do
effects all those who follow.

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