empty room

ding! we shuffle homeward then
beneath cloud-gray gloom,
doddle emptily
before great Sleep's repetitious void;
i resent obscurity's watchful silence. but
what's healed by bustling anonymity?
intimacy's absent dialogue
thinly veils--

a petal
as are we all,
flowers forgot.

but soberly, respectful:
no unplucked stems remain.




12/29/08

free

when, in querulous thought,
you think of freedom, let it not be
tales of proud flags flying fierce and full;
nor mystic microphonic speech delivered;
never knickerbocker armies filing ranks;
think not of licentuous behavior in dark streets;
not even riots of good citizens: these
are the stuff of tyranny, whilst
Freudian nightmares reign. not freedom,
which is the beautiful fall in Pennsylvania:
slaves may see Beauty in the yellow trees, but
only the Free acknowledge her.




10/16/08

n+1

depressing arrogance:
an illusion of intelligence and values
haughtily mandated from tired youth.
what sadly disillusioned tripe.




12/18/08

the buttered upper crust

ah. well, there is that.
you middle people always want
recognition, but you're too familiar.
how can we idealize you
who look like us, dressing poorer
and with shorter words?
no, it will not do.
this guilt must be expunged by those we least resemble.

because there is this.
you people aren't so far behind
the humble starts some Harvard mums recall.
grandfathers were near equals once: embarrassing,
but we have since evolved. now in
these splendid gillless estates, we dare not stretch
our biped arms to you who might then rise
and overtake our private, private lung-filled shores.

eh. perhaps it's harsh.
but all us winners started such;
obstructive social guilt be damned.
we argue fiercely to improve
only the most downtrodden, friend:
it's easier to love the ones we'll never know.
almost help the never-equals &
never help the almost-equals.




12/17/08

law

the city glooms, you know
outside the shuttered courthouse windows,
dulled sirens the brightest flashes.
gentle sunlight,
softly distant
sketches our bureaucratic march
on marble counter tops:
we slouched few
scurry beneath the arched triomphe de justice;
so heavily yolked in scathing civility.
there's work to do! these laws
will not condemn alone, nor
charge great pennies for their use!
to arms, my brethren,
don dark robes and speak as gods!
--and yet. the furor passes by
my island mind withdrawn from legal city gloom.
i've found myself: a thin sketch of marble shadow
more deserving than this judicious mayhem.
what funny things we are! so convinced
our murmerings carry meaning. what's that?
i have never seen a law i like so well as this thin shadow.




10/20/08