To The Past, The Present, The Future

I do not know what means of distraction
will grasp at future throats
I only know of the now and
see glimpses of the past
and it is startling, startling,
to read the past from the safety of the future
to cut my tongue on a shard of Sappho or
fumble Frost’s lines in my throat,
and feel myself in the words.
I can only guess for hazards that
lived in their hearts, I can only
think of them as being – like us,
wanting to speak and be spoken to and
laying awake some late nights,
I can only hope the
horrors of being human
are not unique to this generation, that we are
carrying banners made long ago,
and spilling our brains in traditional methods,
methods that will outlive us and
relics we will pass on, infinitely,
with each new holder believing themselves
the originator of such sins.

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