* * *
ALONE IN UTOPIA
A POEM OF THE ACCOMPLICE
Our utopia is dark, a
Honeycomb maze
Of lost shadows
Where people eat at
Empty tables,
Work grim jobs,
And shop for things,
Built by engines
That safely enjoy
The bright view from the
Top floor corner office;
Whose words are chains...
"Your need is not being met.
Give your labors to us
And we will meet your need."
They do not walk the maze,
And do not know
That people walking together
Will find the bright cracks
In the dark sidewalk.
These machines are trapped
By the penthouse view,
But the exit is on the bottom floor;
Where you leave the building and
Escape into the blackness,
And wander the maze,
Until you find the one
Whose hand you can hold
As you walk
Through the night.
