The Left Column

from poem page 126

Politics for Poets

Setup? Master of the Universe? Rape as a lifestyle? What are we to believe these days when we read the paper? Are we supposed to cheer when political people who we loath fall on hard times?

Life goes on.

Fret not for you know not the day nor the hour . . .

~ OK Now.

May 23, 2011

The Susquahanna River, Pennsylvania from
last fall.


  If she was bothered by the wind
  she didn't let on about it.
    I listen to her drone on for a long hour
      then another. Then another.

  When you sign up for these things
    you never know what you're getting yourself into.
  And I've never enjoyed the company
    of chatty female strangers
      without their men
      no matter how pretty they are.
      
  But if she were silent.
     She'd direct her silence against the
      bare soul cliff-face heart ache
    masking itself as bubbles and sun-bows
     
     did I see
      unicorns dancing in the bulevard?
    20,000 kids drinking for the day?
     who's that naked?
    I'm not printing that picture here.

  finally when she batted me on the arm
    I let into her, really let her know what I think.
   There's all of us here.
   We've all had to wait all day to get this far.
   And no one else
    wants to hear 
    anymore from her
 so why doesn't she just
     shut up.

  I don't like to 
    loose my cool
   in front of strangers
  and possible mystic
   fellow travelers
  out over the storm
  with rough weather
  and silent thoughts
   of the holy dead.


   

     from Poems 189