It matter not the name
at least that’s what they say
in their vague wisdom
that we acknowledge.
Close your eyes
breathe in deep
and believe you me
that the scent will be true.
Try to trick humanity
but we will not be
for obviously a word
cannot change essence.
The experts may have studied
good wine and expectations
but I don’t have to know their minds
to know how to doubt.
Doubt easy sayings.
Assume exceptions.
Consider circumstances.
Force truth.
If we all agreed
to name it rose
it does not hold
the scent constant.
Trampled fallen flowers
in spite of identity
smell not of sweet romance
but forgotten fertilizer.
Grows the future
from unquestioned roots
grounded in ideas
that should be rethought.
The Proud Dandelion 
The Weight of the World
The clouds hung so low
that the pillars of smoke
from the factories
held up the sky.
The stacks rose above spires
as straight as the spines
praying as if their words
were as useful as action.
Mists of fire
shrouded clustered lights
like fireflies in the fog
tempting the imagination.
The halos tricked
simple minds
into believing the worthiness
of substitutes.
Plastic bags danced
as nature’s sprites
across lacerations
on the numb ground.
Atlases noticed none of this
shrugged with indifference
and the future
went to hell.
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Posted in Nature, Poetry, Social Commentary
Tagged action, indifference