Tomorrow is another day
this one is dead and gone
but it will live on in our hearts
as long as it is sung-
as the lifting of our voices
up to reach the skies
is what ensures each morning
that the sun does rise-
as the precious violence
that we term the “now”
depends upon our breathing in
and caterwauling out.

b.

Oh, but I would like to have
one true moment of knowing!
all my self conglomerate
all my self conjoined
mitochondria to meme aware
omniscience purloined
to be so intricate – far-reaching! -
diverse and yet detailed
to find my purpose nothing
but to compose myself.