Everything ought to be
making you sick
from honor killings
and stray bullets
to open resistance
against easy corrections
of past mistakes
and ancient injustice

Everything ought to be
crushing your faith
from the way they swing God
like a scythe at our heads
to the faces of stone stupid
ignorant men
staring into the eyes
of simple folk brandishing
facts for the taking
and calling them lies
and calling them liars
or worse than that
turning away

But everything also
can help make you better
If you go out looking 
you are bound to feel better
From touching your hand 
to the lips of a lover
to being amazed
by sunset revelations
From charging the line
they’ve put up to stop you
to striking the tent
after sleeping on mountains
From being the One
for a swift-dying man
To standing alone
where no one else can

And it isn’t like everything 
changes when noticed
Or that nothing worth seeing
is ever forever
It’s all in a balance
between warring and resting
Between screaming and sleeping
Between storming and laughing
It’s all the rage somewhere
to be enraged always
All the rage somewhere else
to leave all rage outside
I say it’s a privilege 
to feel anything anytime
The ones who cannot
are soon enough buried
and all of the living 
we have left to do
is only a living
if we live on both sides
So sicken and heal 
and chatter and humble
What we’re here to see
is everything clearly
What we’re here to do
is everything always