HERMETICA

poem

we’ll look back on this age
with the explosion of tech and
information
and remember how we thought
we had everything all figured out,
we were calm and peaceful and rational, and surely
the mass hysterias of bygone ages
could never
happen again

--

--

poem

I can’t write poems anymore.
I don’t do anything worth writing about.
The legality of Doing Things
is rather sketchy at the moment.
I don’t go on dates, I only started going to bars again
in Fall 2021. I don’t know
what’s allowed and what
isn’t. I didn’t think a “fReE” country
would make courtship and for that matter,
movement
illegal, but there it is and here
we are. We’re In This Together,
the county supervisors said, as they
barred people from earning a living and
forced brown working-class folks
to bear the brunt of the plague, but
at least they were nice enough
to flatter them — “essential workers,”
great for the ego, puts you in the same tier
as police and nurses. Save a life,
order takeout. We might even
tip you a few bucks
for your trouble.

--

--

poem

“jeez,
there are no good movies lately,”
we say to each other
through our cloth muzzles
at the watercooler
nobody needs more serious drama —
our world
has plenty of that,
comedy is illegal,
so is romance,
and today even a child can create
special effects
on an iPad
like a preteen Industrial Light & Magic

where’s the culture coming from,
where’s the revolutionary, the
inspiring,
the rulebreaking

certainly not from me

and the future is
anonymous
so we may never
find out

--

--

poem

almost every week
I read about someone
who committed an unspeakable act

someone who
took the lives of others
in the name of a cause

someone who wants me dead
because of my beliefs,
because of how I vote

and every time I read about it,
I have a strange sympathy
for them all,
because they and I
and many others
are simply
lost

--

--

poem

Your face, like your mother’s, gazing at me.
Just a profile picture of someone I’ve never
met in person. No matter.
I can still see it in my mind’s eye.
You wrote to me, and I
to you. I have a wall of text in front of me
and I was glad to receive it.

The Lord isn’t giving me the words
at the moment, but I know that He will
at His perfect time. I wait in peace
for that moment. What will I say.
What will you say next. Only
He knows. And I pray
He shares that wisdom with me
this week.

--

--

HERMETICA

HERMETICA

prose scrawled on the cave walls — poems, thoughts, and stories from the remarkably unremarkable