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The Dead
How often has it been said
Of the dead,
They would not have the dearly undeparted
Suffer undue grief.
They would have us renewed with joy,
After an appropriate mourning,
Reaffirming the gift of our daily existence
With fond reminiscences.
Will the dead never let us go?
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Devolution
He was bored,
So bored with routine,
Every morning,
Brushing his teeth,
Making coffee,
Slogging off to work,
To predictable employments.
Then,
Weekend chores,
Social obligations,
So encumbered by family, friends and finance.
The half-slumbering supplicant,
Longing for escape,
His earnest entreaties
Finally heard,
Heard and granted.
Now,
As the first light warms the earth
He drags himself out from under a stone,
Eager to feel the sun against his scales,
The taste of yesterday’s grasshopper still lingering on the tongue.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
What Do You Really Think?
What do you really think?
No,
Not what you’ve heard,
Those predigested generalizations
Tailored to specific constituencies,
Foot soldiers amassing in the unity of certainty.
What do you think that’s genuinely yours,
Uniquely yours,
The product of your own ingredients,
Of your own mental exercise,
Unaltered by expectations of approval
Or disapproval,
Stripped of cliché,
Of second-hand observations . . .
Summon the truest voice within and tell me,
What do you really think?
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Know Now
(With hillbilly banjo accompaniment)
If I didn’t know what I know now
I wouldn’t know what I know now.
If I didn’t know what I know now
I wouldn’t know what I know now.
If I didn’t know what,
I know now,
I wouldn’t know what,
I know now but,
I know now what,
I didn’t know when,
I didn’t know what I know now.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
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