New Poem #25

The noonday demon breading brooding. Scoffing, camped out on the rings of Saturn, snickering. We shake our fists and pop our pills. We try to explain. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? No faith in explanation. No faith in faith. No heartfelt words, only intellectual gambits. What we really need is an umbilical cord of infinite length, connecting us to everyone and everything. That's what we really need.