Fools’ Rush

“We are idiots, babe —
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves.”

–Bob Dylan

We were at the mall.
We were in the shops and the streets.
We were glued to the screen.
We were blowing it up in life’s cradle.
We were talking on phones.
We were driving to work on reality TV.
We were wiring gone wrong and disconnected.
We were forgetting the meanings of words
When it happened.

We were distracted by angels imagined.
We were watching pornography.
We were worshipping a hunger
We would never impose upon ourselves.
We were drinking whiskey and wine.
We were nursing our wounds.
We were losing memories, forgetting histories.
We were anticipating repercussions.
We were lost in the labyrinthine passages of time,
Caught in meaningless moments made momentous
By circuits gone haywire,
When the strings and souls sang out.

We were wasting our time.
We were watching the clock.
We were counting the seconds.
We were engaged in the futile dance.
We were fucking and fighting
And feeding the beast.
We were screening for intentions, for weapons,
Or submitting to the eyes of the watchers.
We were moving but dead.
We were buying and selling.
We were caught in a game that we did not create.
We were building a city.
We were laying down concrete.
We were mourning cultures cast aside.
We were purchasing packaged flesh with crumpled bits of paper.
We were choking on fresh air
And drinking the poisoned potion of industry,
When their song played for the few.

We were lazy.
We were sleeping.
We were waiting in line.
We were sinking under the weight of the unending circus.
We were borrowing and spending.
We were spending and borrowing.
We were talking of nothing.
We were nothing and everything.
We were enraptured by the minutiae of lives unlived.
We were entranced and sickened
By the madness of marketing.
We were ho-humming the wild wood.
We were selling our children.
We were laughing at the old and the wizened.
We were creating cancers and conspiracies.
We were courting or casting out demons.
We were embodied – the original sin –
As a generation
Of minstrels, misfits and magicians,
Mired in our madness,
Imbued it with meaning
And slipped,
To the inescapable void.

Offered up for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets.

I was musing on the passing of Howard Tate, and of so many other musicians, writers, thinkers and artists of that era. Where will we be when they’re all gone?


About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

8 responses to “Fools’ Rush”

  1. Pat Hatt says :

    So true, where will we be indeed. This new breed can barely hold a candle to any of them. Guess that’s what you get by getting famous by sex videos and reality tv huh?..haha…great verse loved the playful we were, tickled the cat’s fur.

  2. brian says :

    nice…so much to keep us busy, away from where the magic really happens….nice repitition in the opening of each line until it broke with the punch…

  3. Victoria C. Slotto says :

    This evoked so many images for me. I thought of where I was when Kennedy was assasinated, (both Kennedy’s for that matter and MLK, too) 911, all of those kind of event. For me this was apocalyptic and then you sucker punch me with the end. Great build up and denouement, Emily.

  4. hedgewitch says :

    “We were ho-humming the wild wood…”–I could quote a lot more cogent lines from this, of course, but this one pleased me most in its understatement, and in the way it blisteringly reveals. Fine writing all through, and thanks for the quote at the intro from one of my favorite Dylan songs.

  5. claudia says :

    we so easily get caught up in the everyday of life that we forget what is really important… good to be reminded..

  6. Heaven says :

    Nice thoughts… I specially like these lines:

    We were embodied – the original sin –
    As a generation
    Of minstrels, misfits and magicians,
    Mired in our madness,
    Imbued it with meaning
    And slipped,
    To the inescapable void.

  7. kelly says :

    we were, we were…we are.
    i wonder that myself sometimes, it’s a different world these days.
    or is it?

  8. morning says :

    we are everything and everywhere,

    powerful expression.

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