But They Shall Be Sad Someday

ignoring all but redeemable replications
with value placed in social shallows,
collecting stuff thrown
from the desks of redundant sources,
having discentric mirrors for eyes, on marrow
lacking a floor of flowers

all for to mimic the fat mass, they too
must shadow their shadows

so is it sensuous unthought
that escapes the rock of economic logic?
franchised otherwise
into one of the many sames
who think a tongue of dispossessed
elements, who clever their beliefs of connection
with fanciful humors, safety pins
against held-off deaths?

don’t let them mourn for the walkers
whose silence sets other tracks,
nor follow their footfalls
into prayerful caves
near the roots that crickets drink

for there
are sounds of unquenchable heights
that no blessing of their mouths
need consume or consecrate


(c) J. Celan Smith