New Year - Seeming

It’s a new year in an old house

With more technology you’ll never understand

Break out your typewriter with your «thees» and «thous»

Smearing old words with your old hands

You’ll call me Cassandra, I’ll call you King James

And all we write is true and all of it insane

But the changing of the seasons

Will forever stay the same, you say

The infantry’s retreating

Like they knew how this would end

Did you hear the Germans lost the war?

I bet they could use a friend

Right now supper’s getting cold

Right now God is growing old

Right now dialect is evolving

Outside of this house, or so I’m told

And it’s a real fear for you and me

Burning clothing just to keep the winter warm

My fingers trace the gumline of a skeleton key

Not caring whether it could open up the door

And the faces at the window are children in the womb

Black-eyed and still but growing every day

You’ll die on the outside, or die in this room either way

Our infancy’s receding

We’re a heartbeat from the end

Did you hear the madmen lost the war?

I bet they could use a friend

Right now supper’s getting cold

Right now God is growing old

Right now dialect is evolving

Outside of this house, or so I’m told

We’re stockpiling warheads

We’re stuck in the past

Death is art, truth is beauty

And the first shall be last

You’ll call me Athena

I’ll call you Monet

When the world is falling down

Crumbling like clay

We’re hiding in caverns

Forgetting our names

We dissolve in our mythology

Like blood in the rain

And you’ll call me the lion

I’ll call you the lamb

I am lost in all you are

You’re alive for what I am