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To worry?

It seems like only a few days ago
that we were crouched upon
my father's forehead
trying to iron out
the wrinkles born from his day upon day

Now we sit explaining
how we were
and all of us are
born into a world
where nothing can be changed anymore
left only with a fleeting illusion
of control

the wrinkles on the landforms
and the fleeting seasons can explain
what is going on.

We are talking, meeting, discussing, and allocating
funds and sanctions
budgets and assets
taking reports
Persecuting and hating on people
assigning blame where we think it's due
finding what exactly is wrong
as if we know

As if we know anything from graphs and sheets
and networks. Data and models.

Did they fear - the people from Harappa,
what was the end of the world to them?
And the ice agers?
What were they born into?

Maybe we are the only ones who have
lost touch with calamity.

Only everyday expression matters.

Only that matters which lifts the spirit
gives space to melancholy from day to day
Not from the illusion of control
but from the illusion of will
that alone can create any joy
at all
and iron some wrinkles.

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