Thoughts while half asleep in History and wishing the stupid Ken Burns special was over because we had already seen it twice.


This narration is stale
and full of wholesale slaughter -
without death, without failure,
there would be no tale to tell.

And Lincoln, Lincoln is
juxtaposed against Gettysburg;
we need no visuals of
clean-shaven senators from Illinois
to comprehend
all we lost; we all lost.

The battles live on only
through surround sound -
this narration is unnecessary.

I am blind to sepia tones and
I know that freedom is an extension of war.
We are a nation of free men
dying by suicide - said Lincoln.
We have only his second-story view;
our hindsight is not quite twenty-twenty.

Lincoln's memory drips blood
of a thousand rainbows,
bleached to a horror
by its original red.
And Lincoln, in these
spiral-bound pages,
is caught in the words dedicated to him,
unaware that he is a tourist attraction
and a bright copper sheen -
no, he is impossibly stoic in his sleep.

It was not like those other battles,
it was not the festive churning madness
of American freedom,
redwhiteandblue, but
not black, never black.
The wolves that died in the north
died from its coldness and
because it was not the south.

This narration is old.
Moses and Lincoln needed no narration,
and neither did the self-evident truths
(not quite defensible).

Moses doesn't know of her children's freedom,
nor of the century prior to victory.
Her cause is silent and it is over.

The light - the whiteness of it all -
fades to sepia, no longer the
lush forests nor ancestral pride nor
America's divorce from itself.
Then we committed suicide and woke from the dream.

This narration is eternal.

My, but that was long. O_o Hope you got through it all...