“And the large and spacious building, which thy father saw, is vain imaginations and the pride of the children of men. And a great and a terrible gulf divideth them…”
–1 Nephi 12:18, The Book of Mormon

“There will be no peace. Not for lack of reasons and resources, nor for lack of love, but simply because we suck at it.”
–From Fellow’s Uncompleted Little Season Podcast

See unbuilt bridges burning—
their mere idea incinerated
by the friction of a thousand
glad hands rubbing.

See blue-eyed builders
sniveling on the shore,
leering at the surging
waters, their mittens soaked
in tears. They dry them out
with a bonfire kindled by
the blueprints they deplore.
They sermonize: “We’ve spared
all people a faulty bridge.”

See red-eyed architects instead
build up some higher ground
on which to stand proclaiming:
“Now we remember how they mock
the sacred trades of our fathers.
We see again their minds
unmaking what our hearts
designed. We’ll leave them
in the muck.”

Both sides are great at winning,
and both sides stink at having

Poet’s Notes:

Reactions to this poem are welcome in the comments. If you’d like to read another, try In Any Given Eden.

Image of a shipwreck on the shore of Lake Superior was taken by the author.