FOMO
It’s hard to look back
when your neck is pressed
against a wall of ignorance and bliss
I don’t know my history
‘cause I didn’t see it happen
I guess it was
during the bathroom break
that so much went down
TABLE TALK
On a spinning ball barreling through space
that forever spreads like an emergent grimace
across the face of one just hearing
of a family tragedy now unfolding,
we trust that the best of us have some command
of the nature, the scope, of the full expanse;
if we knew the truth, we’d hole up underground,
bunker ourselves, and pray remain unfound,
for discovery would mean the discordant striking
of an ancient withheld silent wisdom, pricking
fears so long unfathomed,
we spent all our thousands
of years
obscured
behind gods.
