Graduation Day
Drawn by ceremonial obligation
up from sleep I woke and stepped
into the borrowed black robes
all ghost bureaucrats trained
to redirect dreaming pretend
we do not like to wear. I drove
my black car to the stadium
to sit on stage and be watched
watching young expectant spirits
one by one with dread certainty
pass before me, clouded
in their names. Then listened
to no one in their speeches say
you’re welcome for allowing
us not to tell you it’s already
too late to learn anything
or defend whatever accidental
instrument in us causes
all these useless thoughts.
Like if you walked for hours
through the vast black avenues
of those server farms all of us
with our endless attention built,
you could almost feel the same
peaceful disinterest as when
your parents talking and smoking
raised their heads for a moment
to smile and tell you go back
upstairs and read the book
you love about myths that explain
weather and death. Now it is
almost June and they are finally
the children they always were.
So more precise than anyone
has ever had to be, go forget
everything we told you
so you can fix what we kept
destroying by calling the future.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.