1733 c/o Tommy Keane

 
Debts and Praxis


For you and we.

Only in sight of time can we stand, us, astride.
Only in spite for can we blandish such pried.

***

As we sailed in mirth on the shortest berth of our journey across a world,
we came bursting forth as braggarts besworn with our plans upon your shores.

Merely more peoples posited peerless, with fearful plans for freedoms,
searching always for lands of less that wills will always knead until more.

In your well-worn wild, with just barely a score hence mild,
it was the smiling shining promise of progress' premise that failed you to push back on your unlatched door.

In an idling unctuous swagger embittered upon patience but barely bedraggled,
we flew and floated, never besotted, gingerly carrying our plans for we.

A city to build, a home to make new, and safety truest and free;
never will burn, never be lost, never to fall back into the sea.

Our hapless hopes met by your hopeless rotes;
short of enslavement is the standard for thee.

You will lose because you already chose;
we will win because we see only sin.

But before it goes further, the scorched earth will roll over,
only to burn, but not let us in.

It's hard to catch up, when you can't see the steps.
It's hard to slow down, when you can't see the rest.

We had a singular vision, a future for which we made provisions,
so why didn't you just climb aboard?

And yet as you went away,
in your eyes you would say,
"Our progress just hasn't met yours;
our conquest doesn't beget yours;
our fondness does only invent yours;
our hardness is yet to be implored."

And regret is all that we all have inshored.

Our hapless hopes met by your hopeless rotes;
short of enslavement is the standard for thee.

Our hapless hopes met by your hopeless rotes;
a perfected invention is the vision of we.

Our hapless hopes met by your hopeless rotes;
enslavement to visions for dreams.