melting yesterday, solid tomorrow

everyone thinks they know
they think think think but they
don't know know
where they're coming from
or where they're going to be
when the pavement splits and the yellow lines go
back around and forward and down
and everywhere else that they can't figure out
to steer wildly as the cup holder tightens
gripping a glass of the milk of human kindness
and laboratory mice tell stories of old men
with canes and beards of grass
earning points for style with
quality brass
that will melt melt forge
and drip and shape and sizzle and orange
to save some time on a blank rigid face
so everyone can know
that to think is to hope.