Remember
the way things used to be.
No.
Remember
first impressions and don’t allow them to lock you into a mindset that grinds
everything and everyone into the pieces and parts of a larger and more
ineffective machine.
Yes.
I’m
not here to tell you anything you don’t already know.
I’m
not a life coach or some masturbatory guru who gets off on watching his or her
followers consume each other on a molecular level.
We
had plenty of that when we were all living in a yellow submarine and I’d like
to think we’ve moved past that kind of prehistoric belief system.
I
don’t need nor want for you to think of me as a poet but instead as a parser of
words because statistics don’t mean a damn thing if you don’t have enough will
power to get up and go when an evil doer enters the room and tries to coop your
soul.
Remember
what it felt like to hold a pen or pencil in your hand and how liking something
was a personal triumph and not just another public expression of your selfie
love for a society that went bust long before the gold rush was the new kid in
town.
Yes
I want you to get off my lawn and while you’re at it get off my planet until
you admit what the white man did to the Native Americans is an unforgivable act.
Period, end of story, game over you have no more pinballs left and I’m tired of
your revolving door politics.
Some
people make history while others rely upon histrionic excuses to get them through
the next five hundred years or more with hardly a scratch to their Taj Mahal
souls.
Let’s
try again to go the distance and while we are at it I promise not to remind you
of all the times I did not kill you for being such an incredible asshole.
Yes.
Charles Cicirella
11/7/15
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