Time is all rolled up and ready to spring forward.
Forget about proving the axiom.
Live expectantly, in the palm of the fortune teller
and in all things that have already occurred.
Once, all I knew was the future.
Stories were expected to happen.
There was a flow of events heading towards progress.
Decisions, donations, destinations attracted attention.
The congested void wavered on
in a pre-determined pattern.
… Like a worm in a hole, like a hen laying eggs,
like a snake weaving thru grass. Like Boggie and Becall,
like Taylor and Burton, like Pierre and Margaret, …
Fuller’s Geodesic Dome will house millions.
Ambiguity will be designed into student buildings.
We will plan on the advice of Jack Diamond.
Less is more certain. TD erected two black towers.
CN completed a revolving restaurant.
I drove down the DVP in a new Ford Galaxie.
All of these tremendous accomplishments
ticked off, … minute after minute.
The spring bound scroll unrolled conclusively.
… Like a rat in a cage, like a bat in the sky,
like a tiger burning thru shadows.
… Like Di and Charles, like Cash and Carter,
like John and Yoko, like Bob and Sarah, …
The grand scheme of all things held multiple
possibilities. Everyone was sure of a happy ending.
The intersection at Parliament and Gerrard will
be cleaned up. Bob Rae will run for Premier.
All of the suggestions and valid exaggerations
will pass the test. Viljo Revell defined a city.
Henry Moore placed his Archer in the right direction.
The remaining leisure was caught up by trips
to the island. The spill-proof spool continued.
… Like a man in a death suit, a girl at a drug party,
a surgeon removing the brains of Kennedy & Einstein.
… Like Bjork & Sting in concert, Madonna on stage,
Bono live, Cher & Celine at Vegas. Like the son
of Ringo standing up and saying, “Sorry folks,
I’m not like my famous Dad, I’m only a bass player!”
Copyright © The JR Collection
of Digging For Sand ~ Holding Violent Change