We Are Tomorrow

Through the patches of a spoiled kingdom
Nestled in a spoiled earth
Counting out the hours you have wasted
Rationing the moments spent unfazed
You have sailed on the lakefront
Bleeding out the moments that you never understood

It does not matter that the sun had set 
Upon a chance you took,
(For there were all too many
Chances you could not have taken).
These wild intonations do not reach your ears.

Muted symphonies chime out the footsteps of our decades,
But you could never comprehend the meaning of egress,
Months elapsing, and the moments fading, 
And you could not regard them with a subtle face;
You only knew that you were looking to the future, 
And the future was another cloud eclipsed by longing
To be plainly understood.

The symbols play a thorough chord, 
Painted in an undone streak of whimsical ablations
(And isn’t that what you have always known!)—
Mechanical and passionless, a motion of another word I said, 
And you could not repeat these odds and trends.
The words carve out an instrument of absence.
The motors roar a suffocating tune. 
You said that you would think it through tomorrow—
But what is your tomorrow when you cannot remember 
Voices ringing through today?

Drowning supplements are picking us apart. 

What if I could tell you of a blissful fancy
But you have never entertained abstraction, 
Running through the motions of your day—
(And I cannot predict what I will eat for lunch)!
At the table I have formulated a reaction 
Stronger than the chains of independence;
You were told it forthright,
But what if I can only play with hints and shades?
What if you could take a turn to listen?
Then you would not act, but know—
Well! 
If I have thought of sibyls laughing at enchantment, 
So be it, for there is no enchantment but
An ordinary sadness that is all the motions
On a model that has always preexisted:
Matrimony, kisses, penetration (in that order not ordained). 
You count up all the cents, and days go running,
Weighing opportunities.
To fly to Lisbon and to Barcelona is a petty treat 
That I have not deserved. 
Well, I shall tell you it tomorrow. 
You seem to understand perpetual tomorrow. 
Tomorrow is another such abstraction 
I have never known.