we don't know...

we don't know
who he was

but someone, somewhere, sometime
was killed

he said forgive them,
for they don't know their guilt

he said many things
that ruffled some feathers

and many things
embraced by others

if only I'd been there to see
those wounds that Thomas saw

that's my weak excuse:
then, I would believe

until then, help me
in my disbelief

if only...

if only
resources were pooled
or pulled together
how much
efficiency
would increase

-- ten, hundred, thousand fold? --

but we're still left
with flies smeared on walls
that release we seek
that we'd like to take hold of
still eluding
our sorry souls

if only
we could make reality
our own
to take our being
down data highways
never to be forced
into a choke hold

if only

but the world's not ours to make
our belief counts for nothing
except for saying:
we were here once
and you can't erase that past
you can't erase that space-time
being/nothing

circles and friends

the quick wit
and sharp tongues
the fast fire
and loose guns

it's hard to keep up
with clicking clocks
with pennies in freefall
and tightening knots

you'll never be invited
with cards neatly laid
into the smoking room
where the deals are made

I understood you, though
you spoke clearly
as you quoted C.S. Lewis
and divine mystery

you told me once,
not to wear masks
lies, pretence,
are not for us

at what point it's us,
at what point it's them, though
I do not know

as every circle, every contact
every bit of info
pushes you further out
from people, as a whole

you try to make your food --
your food is made
you try to make your bed --
your bed is made

just one thing left to make
a land divorced from people
a people divorced from land
to wed again

a city swept by dust
swearing muffled by storm
faces on the tram, to forget
or to transform