The rocks were only rocks, once,
and trees were only trees.
We were children then,
and we played pretend
for the fun of it.
“Tell me a story.”
“This tree is my castle.”
“Let’s play cops and robbers.”
The stuff of life’s turned allegory,
and never simple more.
The innocence has fled the story,
and symbols block the door.
“But what does it mean?”
“… referential totality…”
“There’s nothing outside the text.”
Red light stop.
Green light go.
Adjust to the moment,
but be free and genuine.
Signs come in three parts;
care to take a look
at my semiotic triangle?
Triangles have three sides.
Meaning opens outward.
Interpretation runs in a circle.
“Bomb them all and let God
sort them out.”
Be your own person.
Think your own thoughts.
“Polly want a cracker!
Polly want a cracker!”
“People don’t like it when you point out contradictions.”
“Tell the truth.”
“Show me one honest man.”
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”
“We are all unique individuals.”
Remember how it used to be,
when rocks were rocks and trees were trees?
See children on the field so new,
just doing what they always do.
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