What Was

I remember tasty music and meaty discussions,

aromatic literature and fragrant ideas.

Work that you could inhale deeply

in the warm glow of a time that never was,

all consumed with a rabid gluttony that would make the Romans blush

and can now be scarcely recalled

washed down with a companionship that we never had.

The Mascot dances wildly through this loud night

to a music no one can hear;

his erratic jerking off kilter and arrhythmic.

I guarantee that somewhere another grandfather celebrates,

though my own is long dead and rotting in the cold damp ground.

Would he feel any different if he were actually here

to gaze upon all that his best efforts have wrought?

Snapshot.

Jackpot.

Boy, we’re in for it now, my friends.

Sometimes nobody necessary arrives and we’re left only with reality TV rejects,

an endless legion of one hit wonders,

empty promises

and a deep fear of all that is known and unknown.

In the end, we’re just left casting about, searching

in the dim light and hazy smoke

For half baked dreams and figments of an impossible reality,

forever dejected

and damned to run this same race over and over again.