Oh, celestial heavens!

Thy glory is upon us

Like a ray of light piercing the sky

And ear drums alike concurrently

End not but by night's fall

The sun and moon and stars align

Today is but history's easel

Though tomorrow is art not yet broached

From taming the very skies above

To generations' imagination rewritten

The very limits of ideation conquered

The boundaries of the mind splintered

A distant vessel approaching harbor

One last time into port

A final journey undertaken

Innocence lost but not without purpose

Cynicism will rue the day

What was is left to be never revisited

Failures to dream

Mistaken as vagary, caprice

Bring back the boundaries of yesterday

Usher in a new era of vision

Conquer the myopia of never seen

Deliver us unto our collective flight of fancy

If you don't shut up

I'm going to send you back

To St Louis

So you can get shot with your homies

Are you going

To be a lawyer

Or do you want to become

An alcoholic like your dad?

You were a shit friend

To someone I knew that passed away

You're a bum, I'll send you back to Oakland

Where you could be drinking out of a brown paper bag

You're not back with your homies

If you're not careful

You'll be watching the game in the stands

You'll be back in that neighborhood

-A poem by Mark Mangino