Nothing prepares you

for the tracks in the snow

that turn to muddy

memory. A green hunter

when everything mattered,

when there was a clear motive,

a reason and a name,

something you could explain —

the blame you needed,

so you could kill

what needed killing.


And what didn’t need it

back then? So much

was so wrong with everything.

Holocaust survivors

committed suicide

in Safeway parking lots.

Grizzly bears got radio collars —

narked on themselves.

Who didn’t huff, puff,

snort, and grind teeth

under chemical clouds?

There was blood in the streets,

on the castle stairs. It wasn’t a dream:

the world went crooked

& Big Brother played guitar.


You knew it all and how (and why).

Their failed mythology

paraded decrepitly

beneath the machine

that measured, discarded,

and ignored. Chaos never cared,

still doesn’t. Do you?

You’ve been under the influence

all of your life. Hell of a trip —

knowing less the further you go,

and being okay with that;

ready for the end, the tunnel

of light or dark, regardless;

ready for sleep, ready for quiet.

No more dogma. Voiceless,

you can finally begin.


— for Sean

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One Response to COMMENCEMENT

  1. Great, thanks for sharing this blog article.Really looking forward to read more. Fantastic.

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