We of this dull and prosperous society
Where organized money fills any gaps
Where any space between things
Has long ago been mortared and closed
Healing done on that which is not sick
We have little time to think on our sorrows
Or joys before the next of them come
Both parades of extremes
Spinning our heads and bodies
In constant motion
It is hard to recall
The world before this
With late night TV test patterns
Storefronts that dimmed for the night
Long distance plans and landlines
Letters and longhand writing
When space and time between things
Still existed and our minds could keep pace
With patterns presented before them
Now we flicker and buzz
Overloaded with mournful loss and hopeful possibilities
We never take form
Because there is no space between
That still remains
Nowhere to settle for a moment
To take our full forms once again

Gene G. McLaughlin 2015