Not Yet

I wanted a word, a word wanted me
To speak the war’s end, what

Better place to speak it than here
In the shit house

Where the war won’t reach
If there’s anywhere it won’t reach

It reach the soul, the hearth, the very bush blush with disorder
It reach the houseboats that feign placidity but fury calls,
Their economic misfire rocks miscalculation, bombs burst

Love poured as light over them in their folly
In the summer dawn, as cock crow, as dawn draw

Down its margin, as stars fade, rain dry up,
As day retain its luster in a pale sky

Who or where the war relinquish stability,
The worm in the heart or soul, the physical

Flush with it, set to music, as all’s spent
In the banquet, who desire commerce, words
Wrapped in promise of enlightenment

Not yet! Not yet!
Don't wake up yet!