Limbo: Stasis

Limbo now is not a dance
the dangling participle no entrance
suggestive of sex or science

or language masticated by the toothless
but too much exile
waiting for the light of the world

to atom blast your face
against the concrete realities
overwhelming everything by

the Babel feast of lost stories of innocence
as if that were a gift, a credit at
the merchant store of false narratives

of success over the one slice
dimensional forces
spewing forth a dialogue

in a broken tongue neither you nor I
anymore wish to speak or learn
or eat

or kiss anyone with such a device
good only for swallowing tripe
so that we could endlessly

repeat again
lives led in slaughter and denial
our white hats smothering

what occurs
while we tightrope walk across the abyss
to a music made by monsters

©Dean Baker

©All Rights Reserved

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