Six Billion People
by Tom Chandler
And all of you so beautiful
I want to bring you home with me
to sit close on the couch.
My invitation inserted in six billion bottles,
corked with bark from the final forest
and dropped in the ocean of my longing.
We would speak the language of no words,
pass the jug of our drunken joy
at being babies growing into death.
Sometimes, I know, life is stupid, pointless,
beside the point, but here's the point —
maybe we would fall
in love, settle down together,
share the wine, the bills,
the last of the oxygen and the remote.
And all of you so beautiful
I want to bring you home with me
to sit close on the couch.
My invitation inserted in six billion bottles,
corked with bark from the final forest
and dropped in the ocean of my longing.
We would speak the language of no words,
pass the jug of our drunken joy
at being babies growing into death.
Sometimes, I know, life is stupid, pointless,
beside the point, but here's the point —
maybe we would fall
in love, settle down together,
share the wine, the bills,
the last of the oxygen and the remote.
Ooooooh! That should hit home for all of us!
ReplyDeleteJane
"And dropped in the ocean of my longing?"
ReplyDeleteSometimes desire does seem like a vast ocean.
This is such a great poem! It makes me think of all the ways these days we try to get in touch with people...twitter, facebook, etc...all for the same purpose...
ReplyDeleteVery good. Dark in a way.
ReplyDeletevery good --cynicism mingled with hope.
ReplyDelete"...and the remote." Yeah, right. As if ;)
ReplyDeleteI have no children and am always fascinated in the presence of the kind of optimism that allows one to choose to procreate or the kind of denial that inspires religious admonitions to refrain from "planning" to procreate, or not.
ReplyDeleteThis poet is speaking my language.
Wow! I love all of the really profound stuff you find and post here.
ReplyDelete