PART I

new life among rusted,
empty planters. how
pretty the purple and green
is against the white
both traversing the same curve
across the plane of space

and time.

the larger picture shows
a garden in some repair
and equal disrepair,
hope
impeded by sorrow and loss
of a beloved bird, a beloved cat also
mother, ascended; father, gone in memory
families and friends wounded and scattered
body parts, of both of us, wounded and mended
but there have also been gains
this home for the other
cedars, workspace, windows, gardens,
lilies of the valley and tiger lilies
each other and others in love and friendship
dreams
a new bird; a new kitten—both sassy, surprisingly sweet, and loving.

all of this now exists in a world of pain
for no good reason
but for deliberate neglect
deliberate and willing neglect
lies, deceit, cruelty, hatred, incompetence, ignorance
willing, deliberate, proud ignorance
pettiness.
for one it is a game.
for others it is a chance to win, to triumph over all.
for yet another it is an opportunity to experiment, the world held hostage
to his pettiness and arrogant petulance.
a chance to focus with the magnifying glasses the sun on his perceived enemies
those who did not praise or promote him, who dared not to see the greatness of his mind
the largess of his ideas, another “quiet american” with blood on his shoes—
who will not see, cannot understand.

how we will suffer for his hurt!
hubris is a word for those with the capacity to think profoundly,
who have humility, empathy, and compassion
who have the decency to feel shame and attempt to repent. but these,
these see only themselves, their world, and their presence in it overshadows all else.

narcissism beckons fascism in this world.
outside our system crumbles from within for lack of
personnel, resources, mere maintenance.
they have run the engine without oil for too long.
they have starved the population of learning, education, common sense
pummeling us with commercials, they have heralded mediocrity and willing ignorance
beauty and emptiness today’s “fashion”
why have a living wage when we can rely on tips?
why have unions when non-union work costs so much less?
besides, do not those jobs go to “those” and not “us”?
no one waits tables past college.
no one picks crops all his/her life.
no one washes dishes, short order cooks, delivers newspapers or food, makes coffee life-long!
these are starter jobs, are they not?.

do not worry you pretty little head, they say.

Ah, so many myths.

how can one expect another to think of the greater good
when one can not feed one’s self, let alone one’s children
when one has no memory of how to be, live, converse, mend one’s self
mend others, grow, become strong, pair, grow strong together,
grow strong as a group,
grow strong as humanity.

greed has done this to us.
greed made the lies that the earth, and we each to the other, are to plunder
and in so doing
rendered what we were given to dust.

my soul weeps
the foghorn of “truth” broadcasts images skewed to placate and threaten
weaving a mystery for us of unknowable, unstoppable, unaccountability.
these days, i dream over and over of a world in chaos and ruins
all of milwuakee north of North street laid waste
navigating twisted cement and rebar, perilous brokenness to find …
whateve it is
whoever it is
i am looking for
highways broken and decayed
country roads running alongside waterways turned to ice, leading to
land once joined now islands frozen
places of learning crumble and books are irrelevant
ideas no longer matter
science is dead
life exists only in the memories of people who yet live who lived before
these creatures who seek to rule us will not dirty themselves to find us
our only saving grace
and also our numbers, we are so few, who yet exhale and breath again
we live in garages, attics, back yards, and crawl spaces of those who protect us
we gather from continents and languages, climates and cultures dispersed far away
to write our histories and knowledge
all the things we know, which
thought not enough cannot be enough
passes for wisdom: woe are we.

of swaths of land empty, cratered
of people so dark and dirty they are the land

tbc

July 2020