The Sublime Subjunctive

Mechanical routine processes souls

Into dull, grey copies of each other

Language sustains mechanical control

Of thought, and we ought to seek another

Means of freeing the imagination

We ought to shift into a verbal mood

Beyond mere assertion or description;

The subjunctive could change our attitude

And allow us to wish, dream or invent

Quite independently of the mundane

Merely existing, our predicament

Could be transcended by playing again

Remember when, with childish abandon

We heard each word as a fable begun?