Modern Anger  

Brutal drunkness
You pass as a thunder
And let some noises of broken glass
People kill themselves as we love
Each other
In the shadow of those trouble times

And you are waiting about serenity
Perhaps it is lost
Blind in black edmontonian night
As you think you know where you are
And then you find yourself far of your
Own little nest of bird without wings
Distorted
You like to fly
But your wings are in steel
And too heavy
They could fight the wind
Of anger or may be your soft misery

But do not believe in mystery or tragedy
Because your conception of life comes
And dies in your mind

You laugh and yield as a child of hysteria
The thunder past away
You still could see some flashes of lightning
And you drowse and drowse again
With some fragments of obsession in your dreams

But what can we do against the thunder the hurricane?

© 2006 Christine Comeau