They cannot look out far
They cannot look in deep
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep?
I wonder about watchers
because I watch. Listen and look.
Watch the cat, the day break,
the weather, read of lampshades
made of human skin, experience
life lifeing, see the ongoing go.
My evolution accelerates
as spades dig, and earths leap
making room for finished bodies.
bones spitting on flaming pyres,
others becoming ash less visibly
as caravans loom east of sunrise,
and convolutions make room
for these dead to rise again.
Despite evidence to the contrary
untruth is yielding to the idiot true.
Royalties, prevailing as people age,
blur, receding from appearance
in a charade of change, a multiplex
that wheels and dizzies.
The watcher to whom I turn
cautions me to bide my time,
listen and look. Keep watching.
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