The Benediction

The Benediction                                       November 20, 2007

One of a crowd inside a box.
Cornered, yet never pigeon-holed,
But the messenger said I ought to go home.
Squares here, beatniks over there,
Too hip to be anywhere,
Not crazy enough to burn out the flame.
If you listen to the truth according to Him,
It doesn't matter what you are, anyway.

Listening to The Wire, 
They say we're going down
In the prelude to the benediction,
Blessing our souls through the oral hole,
Saying, "It's this way or no."
Life is a tempest, and it simply rolls;
The sound is broken more than once.
If this is so, then what else need I know
If there's a cereal bowl full of reason?

They say life beckons the curtain's call,
Glorifying death, saying it brings life.
Divine Liturgy conscripts in the name of God,
The claimant to all truth sans reason.
I don't know, but there's a lot I've observed,
And I think it's worth considering,
And if I die tomorrow, I shan't a-fear,
It's all black where we go, anyway.