These Trying Times Are Stagnant.

by Connor Zimmerman


Poetry


A mile marker that reads 10? in the middle of a desert
Photos courtesy of Flickr.com and pixabay.com. Graphic Design by Sarah McLaughlin ’23

by Sam Ward ’21

*
I conquered moon cycles, fake news, reignited lighters
with no signs, nowhere to hide, huh.
It’s life, it’s all surprises,
we live; the vibe is priceless.
But when you rewrite the mileage,
you see, these times are stagnant.

**
I used to do this every day.
Now I cannot remember what I said yesterday.
Maybe it is complacency or that part of me rebelled,
Or there are greater forces at work, my chakras disassembled.
I used to turn my truths to fiction,
now just, solace in superstition.

***
If it is not nourished, we forget.
When trying times establish, we neglect.
If it is not tied together, what’s the point?
Let my attention see and my captivation seize.


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