three thousand miles of wilderness
overcome by the flow,
a lonely restitution of pavement,
pomp and show,
I seek a thousand answers,
I find but one or two,
I maintain no discomfiture,
my path again renewed,
against the grain,
that’s where I’ll stay,
swimming upstream,
I maintain against the grain
here labelled as lunatic,
sequestered and content,
there ignored and defeated
by the government,
there’s an oriented public who’s magnetic
force does pull,
but away from the potential of the individual,
against the grain . . .
the flow is getting stronger
with smaller increments of time and eddies
of new ideas are increasingly hard to find,
you need all that the other has,
your right to seize the day
but in all your acquisitions you will soon
be swept away,
against the grain . . .
there’s a common consensus
and an uncomfortable cheer,
a reverberating chorus that anyone can hear,
it sings "leave your cares behind you,
just grab tenaciously",
this lulling sense or purpose will
destroy us rapidly,
against the grain...
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