I am young and immortal,
Or think myself so,
Which comes to the same in the end.
I am old and talk softly in corners
Of when beer was a penny a pint.
A birth for a death is the deal.
Or a death for a birth. Either way.
We are innocent transients you and I,
For all our calculation. The why?
That yesterday seemed troubled by deceit
Now appears as our confusion, a retreat
To sheltering indignation.
The worldpool is wider than death!
See the forest burn in the twinkling of an eye!
Hear the Journey of the Magi in surround sound
At twice the speed of sound!
Smell the gasoline fade from the breath of the cybernauts,
The omens that sail the seas of the mind!
Stewart McKenzie
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/x-diary-03-the-time-of-my-life/
