Five double you's and one H

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."-Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)

            The News Paper reads-Bob Dylan

               I think this-- 
is the wrong Dylan? The man with the words for all ages. The man with words--on pages-not on stages...rouse myself from enuch dreams must crust my eyes...

              
But what do I know, that is not my company. I own no stock in precious medals.

The shareholders have spoken. The country will now be run like a company.

By majority, the minorities must follow en mass, encompassing silence, facilitating their own resilience-

(not by inheritance) and we worry about privacy and freedom while working with none of these:

the Internet is tapped, your phone is traced in space, we may not speak in vain of things like kings, disgraced queens, leaders astray.

Corporations are icons and we are the employees, yet we shall (still) call it 'Democracy'.

By vote?

We are living in a serious time. Tyranny taunts expression and art is the only release.

Self-destruction is a constant temptation that knows our middle name and the past we 

say we have passed is always a guarantee however we remember it, it never sits as it       were

without participation, we must throw in our added effort to eliminate what we did not know then,

illuminate what we always knew, easily we annihilate our amnesia of details-the heat namely,

how close we've come to the flames, cold-blooded we are compelled to mark the moment-

significant-look at me! Crazy. Collected and coerced, alone attracted toward that which 

hungers for our hours, fueled by all that we made in fusion-resistance is futile, that is why

they smile and look the other way, there is nothing to do but start seeing fire differently,

where would we be without it?

"This is the world; the lying likeness of 

Our strips of stuff that tatter as we move

Loving and being loth;

The dream that kicks the buried from their sack

And lets their trash be honoured as the quick.

This is the world. Have faith." (IV)

Why? A brown butterfly flew into the toaster oven his morning and it was delicious

being the most important meal of the day. I am no longer hungry. 

Painting by James Guthrie [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.