These Days

These days

Of tragic disbelief

Have those who were born to reside

As miserable

As witness and that is all

Listening to festivities

Bells

Sounds of festivities

“to partake of me, tonight”

As mad fiend’s elaborate unholy requisitions

I am the novice and no longer want to learn

My contribution will not be missed by the huge ultimate other

Mosaics before our eyes close down the wooden huts

In one night scenes out on the coast

I would rather lay them at your feet and start no panic

These days