Bridging thoughts of departure and arrival

Old Street

Somebody must have started it
a while back
like, a while of a few million years back
(or just a few thousand, depending on how much
you listen to your preacher).

One ape
or Adam
or Eve
must've taken his
or her
anger at somebody else
instead of swallowing that hate
or working on it or telling it to
some sympathetic mountain.

There must've been some deer
(or dinosaurs)
around
(depending on how much
you listen to your preacher).
But it had to be that other guy.

That started it.
That started it all.

You see
we've all got
our personal anger.
I don't need yours
you don't need mine.

Passing it on to somebody else
just means to multiply it.
To keep kicking over
one more of an
endless number of
dominos.

You yell at a stranger.
Another stranger will someday
spit in the face of your
mother.

I am no hippie.
Being nice to that one stranger
won't keep that other one
from spitting.

But it's odd.
Being nice to strangers
does feel alright.
(No matter what your preacher says.)