The world proceeds 
Unfettered from its
Own recoil
Seeking least resistance
And strength from
   stolen oil

The voice of reason
Quells the motion
   raw with change that
Stretches on the landscape
   of incision
      raped upon the
Slab of crisp
   exchange

Safety in the past
Is simple
   soft
      secure
And rich conception
   on the edge has
      danger built
Within its fragile wedge

Bovine populations
Gristle at the thought 
Of rebels moving 
In on their own
Songs
   and comfort zones
But fruits from
   risk
      and ripe creation
Grasp the mind
   and rips the heart
And casts upon the soil
   of our own 
      budding lust
A birthright surging
   in the dust

(c) 1996 James Oliver Smith, Jr