The Left Column

Politics for Poets

Oct 1, 2012

all that I wrote I am goiign to rewirte before I post it so that I don't have any misunderstandings about what I mean. I guess the chill is on due to the election. Does the world need to know how I feel about it? Or does that torpedo my chances at a new job?

A vote for unity is a vote for America. Vote for America.

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

Life goes on.

Thank You Veterans!

~ OK Now.

 

 He had it. 
  But he set it down.
     Somewhere out along the stone wall
   in the heat of the day.
 it was all there too.
  every piece in perfect shape,
   anyone who could price such a thing
 would know immediately that the item was cherry.
   And he just sat down briefly
    to catch his breath
 because it had been a long day at the flea market
     so many tables, not enough time
     in the day
 and all of the things that he'd see
    that he'd want
  all there for him to not get yet
    but just think about it but
      that cherry, and in the original box
     old item
      was just too nice 
   to resist.

  But he had to walk home through the back woods.
   the stones of the wall had rolled off, probably
       some kid who did it.
  He got down
      into the mud
      and rolled the stones 
           back up to the wall
      where they are supposed to be
         not that it matters, really
   where stones lie
      if you get to decide
               to just lay the stone.
      Let it lie. 
    He doesn't remember
        where he set down 
           the box
     with the original thing
        and now
    like he was stung
          by one of the swarm
      Eastern Equines
         beware

       Later that night
    his fever had just started
     he is saying delusional things
    about an antique thing
     that he left in the woods
   by the stone wall
       it must have been
      or out at a grave
 that must be dug for him
      but that must be premonition
      but some people don't believe in that.

  If only
     as the dusk happened
       he hadn't run off into it
   to be lost in his heartbreak times
       that make him seek the end of times for him
   in his delusions
     where the angels are there
        on the other side of the plaster
   but he can't rise through it.
      He stops when he reaches those canyonlands
    of the ceiling
       that he is stopped up against
    wind in the high pines outside the windows.
       Trees saschey in a hard gail almost breaking in a sudden
         burst
                of fever
    of life
        with the squally winds
   on another day
       coming into his dream mind
    as if a tall ship suddenly on the horizon
          ripping through the fog of life
           lifetimes
       of raging seas of
    haters who can't
   understand the vintage toy
       or the proof set from the 1870's
      or the box of old cards
     a drapery catelog from the 1910's
  equestrian magazines
    from the 1930's
      knitting magazines
       from the 1960's
  romance magazines
       from the 1940's
        a toy tank made of iron
      a piggy bank of brass 
          in the shape of an eagle.
  A full set of barbie dolls in their
        original packages.

  It was then, hearing him,
   that they decided to get him into the car
    and in his state of delusion
     brought him 
     over to the clinic
    but he didn't
    have any insurance
        so they told them to drive to
    an emergency room in Rhode Island
      so that they could double bill them
    is what they figured later.

  But no, Sherry
      is demanding
  and knows
       that the public hospitals
   were set up as a trust
    and that sick people
     need to get the help that they need right now
        and I have the lawyer on my speed dial.

  So the orderly pulled 
     the fire alarm
        so nobody
            could be admitted.




        
 If I end up
     or I end down
  head first
   or bottom way around
      down by the duck pond
      or up on the ledge
     protect these apt words.
         Protect me
     and my literary freedom.. 
  
  

Wake up!

The solution to bad governance is
   good people.