Interrogative

Via cadillacs and suburus we travel
to the known beyond, yet,
with minds like traps and souls of ash, we draw the line of no return
between today

and tomorrow.
Still are the thoughts of the interrogative,
for they spin out their tales for no one
into the vacuum of independant media, and it is

absorbed by the great double-think machine of Washington,
and Hollywood,
and Disney.
And that is the way that we know what there is not
to know,
what there is left to know,
because what we see everyday is that which we have been told to know,
and that which has BEEN known
by others to be wrong.
So hail the interrogative and hail the thoughts
of all as one, for this is the age of information,
and catalogues and happy endings,
of savings cards, and interest rates,
and online memberships.
And only you can prevent forest fires, and global warming, and water pollution, and air pollution,
and Donald Rumsfeld.
But to hope and dream of a cleaner, brighter, perfumed tomorrow, is poison
to what may come;

if an hour from now is the future, than the work needs to come now, and the hope be left for the yesterday.
Because if yesterday were an hour ago, than the workers must have called in,
for today is stinkier than the day before, and ten years from now
will be gagging.