Acclimating to Discomfort of the System Breaking Beneath Us

“(plus another poem for the joy of it) Acclimating to Discomfort of the System Breaking Beneath Us           I do not take any            calls except from           the century we are in when there is no bible in my hotel room  it makes me sad to have no place to put      my filthy poems for future guests       it is important to let them know everyone should burn with abandon as soon as the heat is available  be a self-styled alarm clock no one can shut off    be the storm Love places in someone's home          are you sure we can handle this           because I am absolutely certain            c'mon wind knock us around              we are a tide that cures ills                look at us in the mirror        as soon as the invented language enters       us something else will vibrate in our skin      opening door with teeth of the future to    the place where we let the freer feeling go when you told me you had been looking for me         we pressed through every        invisible barrier between us      I watched you gently let the gods    know you are ready to win the lottery         there were people from the            19th century alive in my             lifetime many years ago               I met some of them             they are all gone now              as we hold on to              the side of one            another howling down            the velocity of seconds”