The Big House (poem)

Posted by ractrose on 11 Aug 2018 in Art, Poems

The sunset of the day seems

Exudaceous copper neon

Comes between cloudbank between cloudbank

Warning

with no celestial conviction

Promising

without wherewithal

Where, these days, does earth promise other than eviction

The day just past has passed on the other side

Suppose it had been the first of January

1111 evolution taking us so far

God’s trials of us done

We were only tenants

His big house has servants

But they are not us

If there were something

Fluoridatious for the water

Some sane-making chemical to swallow

Humility

Might stand from ego’s shadow

Vanity

Adjunctive to the moment

Meant, these days, to feel not vain but haloed

The day to come will come again tomorrow

Suppose Doomsday haboobs itself pan-globally

The milky way twinkling on indifferently

We were only tenants

Storehouses for the stuff of life

And remain to Him still fodder

As a ring of dust