“…Have ye not known, ye fools, that have made the present a prison,
That thirst can remember water and hunger remember bread?…”
-From “Mediaevalism” by G.K. Chesterton
The grist in the matter:
the granite will
roll in this mill with
the chaff flying into the hopper alongside the stuff that won’t choke
that stone wheel will
out with each granule
a cause for a file, and the children go
rumble, bloodshed inevitable,
everyone standing half-upright or close
to clear them for
harvest or indoor work.
weep or wait?
this a mill?
So I go
to the library
reading through page after fading page
of the tomes on my breaks
offering up the closed throat
and my stomach’s persistent groan.