To liberate the mighty must submit

its goals to the misbegotten and homeless

since some are neglected, and some are not:

there’s not much utopian about us—

ill luck to destroy what is barely here,

when to save a life, you make a friend for life.

I do not imagine that my loved ones

are waiting eternal for me in heaven,

implicating death to be standing still,

love, a ball and chain to anticipation;

uncommon when we respond to one another

an only flower in the wilderness

I can only hope its home among plains

and blockades, love pioneers our final discourse.