Stephen Covell

A Format For The Future

Stephen Covell


I believe it's been precisely planned 
The day the world will end 
We'll all be vacationing holding hands 
Lullabies sung by a steel drum band 

And by then I'll have figured out 
Why all I ever did was shake my fist 
For no one to see when I read 
Of a million dead so now what's left 

Just a prodigal catastrophe 
And if I sound bitter, please excuse me 
But it's hard for the plants to imagine 
Telling the forest to see itself through the trees 

Can some one please hand me a clue 
I've exhausted my ammunition 
I've got so much left to do 
But I seem to be lacking direction 

Dry erase our history 
So it's easily wiped away 
Effervescent in its simplicity 
How conveniently I forget 

How I wish to be a boy again 
Or to recreate the boy within 
Someone who resembles, someone I use to know 

But my inks soaked through my journal 
The blood of my youth has all but escaped 
Leaving in its wake tired poems 
Grab what's to take and get going 

Just a prodigal catastrophe 
And if I sound bitter, please excuse me 
But it's hard for the ant to imagine 
Telling the forest to see its self through the trees 

Can you excuse me please?