once a black revolving thunderhead
opaque enormous glob of clenched fists
of motives and intentions
wanting wanting wanting wanting
each hidden behind every other
battering to get out
demanding to be imagined
it hurt unbelievably
it was horrible
that everything wasn't what it seemed
promises broken things blocking the light
we didn't deserve that not us
we were still good
in spite of everything
all that's history
a long eyeblink ago
then america became
theme park america
every tree is a museum
every leaf a monument
each flower a flower idea
who would have dreamt
a miracle could be so
easy
everything is so simple
so transparent
one intention smiles from every face
to be pleasant and to please
to please for example
us
who simplify ourselves
to receive simply gratefully
