For the Love of Aristotle

19 January 2019

https://poems.culturing.net/2019/01/for-the-love-of-aristotle/

I feel the burning pressure
push upon my brow.
The beat of every moment,
inescapable somehow.

What fathers bore this curse,
and thereby drenched the land in sweat?
What mothers bore them children,
who don’t know how to relent?

America! America!
There is still time, you see.
As long as we have bodies
we have possibilities.

Recovery must come.
The other options are too dire.
Behold yourselves, begin again,
for this way leads to fire.