“Relax, You’ll Get the Point in Time”
“Relax, you’ll get the point in time,” and so I did that thing.
The longest hour stretched to endless days, days
To weeks, weeks turned vapid, decayed to patience frayed
Through scattered years, decades, and still the sting
Remains and the same drawn phrases, the declarations,
Statements, hackneyed principles, treasured
Piracy of imitation above experience, measured
Nothings by the annotated many, trifles in maturation.
No! the weight of numbers owes its audacity
Not so much to truth but to conspiracy and imprecation
And little or nothing to fact. Whether in the family or the nation,
The issue’s not found within the visible exoskeleton but veracity
In the flesh, not the gown but the woman and damned if anyone cares to know
Reality from Dover Beach or even beans
unless his last name’s Arnold or Thoreau.