The Source (new poem)

The Source

I got a whole backyard full of fuckin inspiration

It’s all up in the ground like the dirt is a sensation

Dig it up by the pound, cart it off in exploration

and when I dump it out, it is a noise of information

But then I sort it out, put each word in a formation

Until there is no doubt as to the source of all cremation

Nothing’s quite as loud as a morsel of elation

But I have figured out that Morse code is an oration

Directed at and channeled through the whole population

of the whole entire world and not just through one nation

There’s a language deep at work upon our own fixations

with blindness and deafness and all false deprivations