Form a queue

 The queue was often vertical though sometimes horizontal
A bench where people sat and worked on becoming friends
The training happened at night
flashing into day the beach and the sea

Heroes looked up knowing in their face
beach sand was age lines from wind and water that food of the elements
like sand was blown in a thick dust all over our identity
tanned and yellowed by the sun

Those heroes left these helpless humans
and their illusion of rights
crude and misguided expectations
in long rows and files waiting for a turn that will never come

survival was horizontal
Legs into motion
rushing at the window
for a chance at validity

No space for law
so enjoy this wide smile
anticipating the feast to come
over insane lands

People line up to get what they think they need
The lucky few that get in at the door
soon find out they have no vocation for it
Night exchanges smirks with dawn

For they truly know
feel electric darkness
Compose symphonies about the dying herds
waiting to have a label stamped into them

lingering sullen expressions, looking for a badge to wear
The few masters we adore get lost in the landscape
and all there is, is the line of people staring toward the entryway
desperation made love to idleness and gave birth to lethargy

Staring at what use to be the entrance
So few were accepted and so many stand at the door
And wait as night and dawn laugh their heads off
creating a decapitated morning

A nonthinking light
a default purpose
an ongoing complaint that has no response or solution
A life of undying indifference 

The unjaundiced sun arms folded
looking out to sea
Not interested in the static tensions
stationary woes and chronic anxiety of the waiting hoard