Finger
The chain is long and far between
Not an ocean of laughter can make this seem
Deniably less like reality, more a dream
That wisdom becomes the curse.
Enough to err, not enough to see
Our way to part from swine; lawless ecstasy
To then blame, lie, kill, pour, toast to drink
Begin to sing as we board the hearse.
Lost forever with the illusory image
A lie that we progress makes one livid
That beyond folly; we’ve outlived it;
Look back and laugh at what we were?
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The agèd and wise, at the family they point
The family jabs down as budding lovers’ coit
Who upon the collegiate, they foist
What is then dumped upon the youth or worse.
The finger goes on down: unwritten rule
Foolish — the wise resolve — newborns are cruel
Those to young to keep passing the part of the fool
Any further back than that —
And this is our curse.
-Ethan Hoeft
