No doubt, excellent penance must be paid.
Life is debt.
Always more to need pulls forward
out of dusty cracked ground to quiet thirst.
We are not last, or first, nor most grieved,
Another litter along this trail of fools.
As if ever more stringent rules,
admonitions of flame and infamy,
could slake or set us free.
Comic cosmic tragedy, carried
begrudged, pre-judged, caught up pre-aware
in dismal prophecy catechized by
Future’s fettered face: shake faith in
reckless disregard for creation.