it’s 3:23 in the morningand I’m awakebecause my great great grandchildrenwon’t let me sleepmy great great grandchildrenask me in dreamswhat did you do while the planet was plundered?what did you do when the earth was unraveling?surely you did somethingwhen the seasons started failing?as the mammals, reptiles, and birds were all dying?did you fill the streets with protestwhen democracy was stolen?what did you doonce you knew?I’m riding home on the Colma trainI’ve got the voice of the milky way in my dreamsI have teams of scientistsfeeding me data dailyand pleading I immediatelyturn it into poetryI want just this consciousness reachedby people in range of secret frequenciescontained in my speechI am the desirous earthequidistant to the underworldand the flesh of the starsI am everything already lostthe moment the universe turns transparentand all the light shoots through the cosmosI use words to instigate silenceI’m a hieroglyphic stairwayin a buried Mayan citysuddenly exposed by a hurricanea satellite circling earthfinding dinosaur bonesin the Gobi desertI am telescopes that see back in timeI am the precession of the equinoxes,the magnetism of the spiraling seaI’m riding home on the Colma trainwith the voice of the milky way in my dreamsI am myths where violets blossom from bloodlike dying and rising godsI’m the boundary of timesoul encountering souland tongues of fireit’s 3:23 in the morningand I can’t sleepbecause my great great grandchildrenask me in dreamswhat did you do while the earth was unraveling?I want just this consciousness reachedby people in range of secret frequenciescontained in my speech
drew dellinger©2003
