Infinitely Interesting Poem by Robert VazquezPacheco

Are things getting a little complicated, folks?
Clarity getting a little hazy? Grail knights
staggering a little as they process. Anybody
else holding a pair of nail clippers while a Gordian
knot materializes a la Star Trek before our startled
but discreetly kohled eyes? Seasons change, the real
estate market fluctuates, the polar ice caps get slushy,
water clouds, mist reverberates, darkness oscillates,
iron oxidizes, debts accumulate, sanity recedes,
bathrooms fluoresce, and the end gets stranger
the less we pay attention to it. Of course, the cultists
will flourish their Mayan calendars and once gain proclaim
the last days. Tiresome not helpful. It’s time for a real Virgin
sighting, not this appearing-on-toast thing. Something
with lots of flower petals and hummingbird winged
putti in a Midwestern mall on a December Saturday.
That concretizes matters. That stiffens the spine
and sends a message to the right parties. Gosh darn it!
Life is FTL. No time to get squirrelly or twitchy, illustrious
comrades. Those barricades won’t watch themselves,
ya know. The central committee have no idea where
this is going: a danger and a blessing. But seriously.
ever become clueless mid-escalator? Bright lights be
damned. Something tells me this is not one of the
gifts of aging. A volunteer from the audience would
be appreciated. It’s more real that way. Right?