Words
photos & words | douglas imbrogno | westvirginiaville.com
Doomsayer
In sweet coffeehouse sadness,
we sit. We bemoaners and
conjoiners and well-outfitted
outcasts of the digi-age. We
brow-knitted worriers and
patron saints of cappuccino.
We who seek to peer all
the way to the bottom
of the well.
We who wail for the age’s
wrong turns, in the aortic
chambers where we retire
when the news grows bad.
Where we try to remain
calm, as the closet
chortles with the glee
of the doomsayer, who sees a
Dark Age as good for his
career.
Whereas, the grimy bhodisatva
in the corner, the one
who has abandoned fame,
bows his bent-back namasté
to the morning sun, the
evening moon. And says,
without ever saying it that
every age
believes
it is
the darkest one.
August 23, 2012 at 12:40 pm
Humming along. And its a damn good thing, cappuccino, that is. Of course things can get worse and better at the same time. Not everything that we find disturbing even affects us. And when they do, there will always be a way to deal with it. Change is inevitable. Run when its good, roll when its bad. The dominant culture is a half blind mob plowing through life looking for paradise or at least a good time.
Keep writing.