The New Overman...
Robert Michael O’Hearn
He could name his own thunder
between each darkness of a heart beat,
audibly louder in the cochlea
than competing commotion in daylight.
Could never recall life as vividly
like going fast forward VCR replays:
Yet he’s as jumpy today as yesterday
with impressionistic emotions, moods.
Diffident and rebelling in stereotypes,
like protons, neutrons expelling atoms,
unable to catch the sound of a name
drowning in the course of human events.
He could dispute you, be condescending,
as atheist as any disbelieving agnostic,
sophomoric in wiles as any 20th Century
crack logician in philosophical discourse.
Yet conversation only intensified life,
as the mere fantasy of happiness eluded
any firm grasp; turned his back to a world
too absconded into misogynism, recidivism.
