Jack Pelham

He makes a grand mistake
Who counts his belief in a thing
Among the reasons that
The thing should be believed.

When a man finally grows up,
He realizes that he is naked.
And then, it’s
Time to get dressed.

Without outside help,
Man wouldn’t even know
That he was naked.

Has that good idea
Worked its way through
Your soul yet?

Modern man,
Ever the richer
In technology
And convenience,
Has yet found
No way to
Automate either
The maturation
Of his soul
His love for
His fellow man.

There is no limit
To what a man cannot see
When he has got his eyes shut

What did anybody ever gain
By being rash,
Except what might have been
Gained as well by mere and fortunate accident?

When I was a child,
An hour seemed an eternity.

But now, in my mature years,
An hour is nothing,
And the day is the new hour,
And the week, the new day,
And so forth.

And while I do frequently regret the change,
And find the acceleration surprising—
Especially since it took
FOREVER
To climb the steps in my childhood—
I take solace in the expectation
That one of these days,
This rushing slide of time—
Will dump me out
Into the glory
Of that endless moment,
Where—
In a different way—
An hour is nothing.

Could Satan himself—
In all his shining-dark craftiness—
Have devised a plot so sinister
As releasing a software without
Adequate support,
Or a service without
Adequate description?