day THIRTEEN HUNDRED and EIGHTY THREE

Perhaps

we have not been sufficiently humbled

Perhaps
more pain is required to reach bottom

Perhaps
we are living vicariously on borrowed feelings
becoming shadows of our former selves

Perhaps
we are not adequately corrupted and diseased

Perhaps
our guilty consciences won’t be appeased

Perhaps
the future will suffer and no one will weep
while we butcher what’s sacred like greedy beasts

Perhaps
we will not satisfy our unholy appetites

Perhaps
we will invent problems for every solution

Perhaps
we will dream the dream of Frankenstein
and create monsters out of our nightmares

Perhaps
we will be a credit to our national debt

Perhaps
Santa Claus isn’t coming, yet

Perhaps
we are too blonde to save

Perhaps
we will feel ashamed

Perhaps
we will abandon reason

Perhaps
we will incarcerate freedom

Perhaps
we will be completely demoralized

Perhaps
we will be subjugated by our fears

Perhaps
there will be four more years.

--Stew Jorgenson