Prescience

can’t help feeling deceived, if it was
so predictable – why the dissonance?

why such angst at being, for once, correct; 
why is right thus wrong in affectation

dwelling in a past tense takes less in
tamed energy vaguely going nowhere

or pompous notions of permanence
shamefully displayed as chimaeras

one must plan redundancy, gazing at 
nomadic vacancies wastes strength

‘post-event as plain as the nose on
your face’ images remain tantalizing

‘tho clear neo-renaissance blooms
atavistically – vigour easily drained

in retrospect all those events you
knew you’d presciently foreseen
© 16 January 2011, I. D. Carswell