older, maybe, wiser


more behind
than ahead
then, ahead
onward
waltzing by,
with two left feet,
past now seen
once unseen
adolescent dreamt
today
sets scene
set
towards
not darkness
nor be it light
but with this
the vague
has might
as before,
now behind,
yet more,
alluring with trepidation
or is it wonder?

well,
whether either,
believe it
shall be found
as it is,
when
it is,
and how
(that bastard mystery)
And why
(that goddamn fantasy)
whom also,
full of grace
and inconsideration,
might will themselves
visible.

but ramble,
as one might,
for this
though secret
is kind-
for this,
though simple,
unwinds-
and we,
us,
me,
can make mountains
of auto crashes,
even when no one dies
or dashes-
spell spite
tight
with measly quarrels

yet,
we,
us,
I,
could, hypothetically,
leave the world in love,
succeed
and reap that
of underdog,
demand
and receive response
to injustice
without complete
and uncontrolled combustion,
we could
at cost of try

but I,
likely
and expensively
know nothing
aside
from trusting vibes,
which
to some,
is good as blind

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