What's Our Hurry?

Love, lust or bitter revenge,

empty release

between casual friends,

Such myriad means

to a singular end ~

Or beginning; for the few and the lucky.

Those who presume ~ so quick to assume

that to act on desire is disgraceful

Is their rhetoric so?

How on earth can they know?

About a subject they find

so distasteful

I look around

and Im hopeful but wary

Will progress

be ever paid for with blood?

At least in my state

I am free to be me

But for most,

things aren't looking so good

Ancient traditions have asserted their hold;

no longer content

with the simple and the old

Those who don't buy the scripture

still do as they're told;

every last soul

bought and paid for.

Shameless; the jurists,

swilling champagne on yachts, looking, for all the world

Like fat tourists in culottes

Are they really beyond the reach of our indignation?

Like a tenured professor, priest’s vow to confessor, sanctified in their unholy station

So what's to be done?

Ring the doorbell and run?

Or just sit here and stew

in my fury?

Why rattle the bones?

Supply the neighbors with drones?

If the end’s truly nigh

What's our hurry?