Poems in Progress: The Middle of Days

The Middle of Days

With a cold, scientific eye turning toward 
The center, whatever it may be, I
Wonder what exactly it’s holding in
This warming stew of complexity. 
         The dog
Owner with his leashed dog–once wolf–at least
Imperfectly prevents the dog from doing
Most things. Everybody may be screaming,
But the sound of tapping keys is less dire,
More a fraying at society’s edges
With an understanding that innocence,
In either tiger or lamb, never 
Existed outside the mind of man,
And even inside it’s perhaps more wired
Than one might initially expect–
Taught, at the very least, and in varied ways.

Really not much different than other
Times, today’s probably more a middle
Than an end. In the area around 
Bethlehem, of course, there are arguments, 
But that slouch seems invariable
In animals, even outside the desert. 
Time is measured beyond 2000 years,
And while vague and troublesome images
Abound, these beasts are but abstractions now;
It’s better to watch closely than transform
Them into monsters: the clouds, computers,
And powerful men–even plagues are not
Guaranteed to be the end. Only one 
Prophecy is theoretically 
Clear: the sun will scorch all the waters off 
Of the earth and shrivel whatever is left 
in one billion years. That’s revelation enough
For now. The rest of the story we’ll have 
To watch unfold and hope we can revise.

-Jeff