GENERAL DIRECTION
my nose, proverbially,
close to the ground
keeping me grounded
blown by
the wind
chasing the Sun
I wandered around the farm
remembering my Hobbes’
theme of the brutish and short
life without sovereign authority
implicit social contract
recalling my Plato notion
of the ethical and philosophical
supremacy of
his ruling class
somehow I
slunk back into my idealism
thought
should stick
with democracy on
(on this hallowed day
of election)
choose
Dionysus above Apollo this
and every day
not to speak of those first
communities of the faith
before
religion got Roman
this issue
of the State
will twist you every
which way
from
state of being, to
highest states imaginable
to Empires of suffering
that we all know too well
from YouTube and TikTok
and old apartheid memories
so much in
this mindset still
needs exorcism I guess
but the green of the farm
so gleeful, intense
after this sudden splurge
of rainfall
everything gaining height
growing (forgive my
ethnocentrism) out
of its socks
gaining height, accumulating mass
giving my theme here
weight
sudden addition of
gravity
as is the general direction
(for this stage
at least
whilst
time decrees it last)
poems 2 die for 