Saturday, August 10, 2013



Some Relative Safety (or What Cassandra Knows) - 130726, Union Hill

Funny how it comes to be this way
and you are asking
“Is this safe?”
when out the window
are glimmers of blue and red
distorted on diner chrome
which would say “Open
Come on in”
if you could only see from another angle

But you are welcomed already
and not alone.
And maybe safety rests
within the jaws of shadows
cast from the lights without
because out there is lightning
and out there are thieves
and rain is coming down
Surely there cannot be safe.

But here is together
and you are here
in the safety of a place between
some past and soon present
where you cannot know
how the story unfolds,
that it ends poorly
and with pain
both sudden and slow.

Not tonight, Cassandra.
Tonight you will not sleep
will not dream
and you will not know
what you know.

Instead you will listen
and fall a little deeper in
until even you sweet sibyl
question your voice
become still
For you are not alone
and this may indeed be safe

In here surely
perhaps out there too
where the lights shine.
So you draw a little closer
almost skin to skin
so your eyes seek the exits
and so you ask again
“Is this safe?”

Seer, who do you query
when you already know
as you walk through the rain
to the car
to the coast
and stand in damp sand
while light streaks the sky
and you wonder if possibly
this might be unsafe.

But you’ve years to go
before you will sleep
and time comes on quickly
and faster it goes
until future present
has also passed on
in accord with the oracle
and here you are there
expectant yet shellshocked
battered and affirmed

knowing you confirmed by ignoring
that the prophecy was true.
Which in the fallout gets you...
...weary satisfaction
and a half jaded smile
and by chance, some time alone
remembering the relative safety
of unknowing the fore-known
in the flicker of red-blue
shone off the future
onto wet pavement
and cheap diner chrome.


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