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Hoping to just live quietly unnoticed—holed up
smoking pot and listening to old music
after work, trying to wait out
the regime—dreaming of tyrants in exhausted
sleep, sick
              of having to think—
Trying the long view—in which years breathe
and the Great Wheel always turns, but
so much damage done as ash and seed
change places, as they always do—was that
               still true? When you could
see the fires of ending spreading, would you
get to live—in greater days when No
would blossom into Yes and Closed
pried—open-hearted -throated -minded, would you
get to live—as you thought you once