Wednesday, May 25, 2011

end of the 20th century, fireside.

We sat and smoked and drank
And played guitars and sang
It was the thing that seemed like purity
Creation was the king of all life
As we knew it
For now, for then
Cars and Families a distant second
In the tree of life
That we were living those days
Books were read and discussed
New authors, at least new to us
Travelling nowhere except in our minds
There were trips to the south or the east
from time to time
Reports were made and comparisons, too
Distant friends from me, to you
Journals passed around the fire
We couldn't believe what the others had seen
Upon mountains or the sea
Photographs and stories shared
We tried to listen, we tried to care
The elephant always loomed
Deep in the room
Never talked about until the time was right
Whenever that was was agreed upon
By a consortium of us
Spurred by spirits and delusions
and a healthy quantity of confusion
It was always settled before sunrise
Now matter how hard you tried
Or otherwise

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