02-20 Try Conventional Wisdom for Treason

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DailyPoetryProject

Since when did it all make sense?

Puzzle pieces left a mess

across the table with a careless gesture,

cast off to join the rest

unwanted

beneath the couch,

behind the dresser,

trapped inside the vent.



So what if a few strewn pieces

still need filling in?

We can clearly see the picture for ourselves,

our minds can figure out

a detail here

minutia there

the little things that draw the line

between a black and white

or color photograph.



It’s math by colors,

shading in the missing numbers

with a box of fifty crayons.

The rest are gone,

used up or sorted out

in factories of knowledge

where workers set about the task

to simplify the traffic

zipping through our minds in daily disarray

and streamline every way of travel

for the safety of our thought society,

as if our thoughts would pile up collisions

every time decisions fly beyond the atmosphere

selected colors disallowed for fear

we might see true and clear

the reasons we should commandeer

this vessel, and control it for ourselves

with reason at the helm.

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