A Scrabble For Tomorrow

The sky-water leapt away


The palm trees shone, the streets grew balmy


Heavy with the the long stretch to June


Everything seemed laden with futility--


The world pregnant with woes,




Waiting, always, for the labor of hope


Months in a drench of sweat




Days spent-- a machine-- in testing rooms


SAT, ACT, Subject Tests-- watch the money


And the dreams drop slowly into the hungry maws of corporation


A fiery sun kisses the astroturf, and the little rubber crumbs grow squishy beneath heels


Pomp and Circumstance like a scratched record, the band slaves away-- with me




Hair in the wind, mingling with swampy meadows




The bright, singing sky caught in a rearview mirror


Boots squelch, perspiration beads




I blink, and the vision is gone


I seem bound to the computer--




Bound to the desperate cry of college!


The rains wash away dirt from the sidewalks,




And I see now--


There is no arrival of hope, or change, or future.





It is every day, bound into the framework of life


Woven into us


This poem is about: 


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