modernity
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Dear 2018,
A blank slate, I look upon this table rase,
And wonder what words shall soon appear on the ancient histories of this age.
C’est a-dire une revolution
Standing on the balcony square,
I watched the August moon,
Its gleaming light so fair,
And I knew I would be leaving
Soon…soon.
Rows and rows of wandering minds,
not zombies,
not the definition
of a human as represented in
Huckleberry Finn.
Not flamboyant like Kerouac.
Not mindless like Orwell warned.
