Wednesday, November 07, 2007


The hollows of the eyes
A dark halo
Perception passes through

The Oceans rise
The Mountains sit
The Forests grow
The Oceans fall

We walked up and over and through. Down paths well worn, well lit, predictable.
Stability was our causeword, our motto. We feared the aimless flailing of our
youth, the poverty of our parents. Prescribing to the university system, the
corporate model, our names became mutilated. Single-syllable, mass drones,
swarming over each other looking for a place to settle. We wanted stable
ground, but it seethed. We crawled on top of each other, those on the bottom
crawled the most. If you closed your eyes you thought you were going

All the screens showed the honey stacking high, victory was most certainly ours.
We must have been the happiest people in the world, all that hard crawling
paying off. Who wouldn't be happy, such a firm handshake. Those cars, so well
buffed, glow in parking garage light. Looking up at the building, row upon row
of your swarm mates filling the combs. Phil had four vacations this year,
snorkeling in the Caribbean, skiing in the Rockies, small game hunting and
ranching in Texas, boating in the Amazon. Kim took time off to be with her
newborn. We are multiplying the family grows! Soon the little one will be
crawling with the rest of us.

© Michael Mosher



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