As soon as this maelstrom passes
As soon that fire’s burned out
When the kid’s bike is safely
parked in the alley
and the neighbors stop screaming
after the last brick has fallen
Once we’re certain the carnage is over
we might just come back to rebuild
It is hard to promise or say
more than that
Our words smell so much like ash
we can barely choke them out
without wondering
if it’s the words themselves
that caused this
Did we speak this apocalypse into being
Was is something we whispered or shouted
Was it something we twisted to suit an agenda
it was never meant to serve
In spite of ourselves
did our insistence that logic
was greater than magic
turn itself into magic
that then turned on us
with a sneer like a windstorm
and a wave of a flame-gloved hand
How much of this hate
was robed in statistics
How thick with explanation
was the blindfold we swore
was a vision
Why do we think
it will be different
if we do rebuild
No matter now
Maybe we will come back to where we were
The place where we claim we lived
once upon a time
We will pick up the pieces and bury our dead
with a hey nonny nonny and a hot-cha-cha
Re-mortar the bricks
and cast a leveling spell
Cross our fingers
Hit the calculator
Pray the numbers
will work better this time
Fool ourselves into thinking
it wasn’t us and it was them
and then make the same damned world
out of waiting to see
if it happens again
Whistling jaunty tunes
as our children park their bikes unlocked
in the same alley as before
once the darkness has settled
and the street lights have put
the lie to the night
Dark Matter 