Fool Me Once Poem by gordon nosworthy

we begin at the beginning
where most things sprout
there is no music yet
it might never come
it depends on how often
&why it's been discounted

no one believes in you
hard but not impossible to live with
no one believes in most people
even those who you depend on
&are dependent upon you
&who you might believe in

you learned the rules well
you spoke out of turn
only when you knew you would survive
being utterly replaceable
meant constantly watching your back
for power shifters &vengeful counter-offensives

you found yourself caring about not caring
while howling to the moon
every nite in solitude &secrecy
only wolves listened
to that kind of music mistaking
your declarations for food

you don't go out much any more
howling has lost its urgency
even winter lost its pleasure &allure
a portent to a spring that lost its content
watching white doves disappear in snow
&the coal man trudge up the stairs

someone took your friends away
drove a truck to the service gate
packed them all in the back
drove away with music blaring
you noticed only when you could hear
yourself think &they weren't there

even with beginning at the beginning
eventually we must arrive somewhere
even if it's only during
the middle of something
even when everything you believe in
shakes in defiance at what's to come