cover art from the Kubaney record label, Manuel Caballero’s “Gigantes y Cabezudos” © |
I am calling this year's election, Musical Felicity
and she's my show tunes hooker-ette
and as she waves, purring in silhouettes
she frames doorways, eager to let us know
that this year's theme is a very latin flavored crow:
(cuando los políticos desfiles de
gigantes y cabezudos ,
empiezan a succionar todo el
aire y el agua ...)
we begin our story
in a melancholy Spring time
lilting halfheartedly, disposable
wishes as if wearing wings with wigs in tow
could sing all of what francis scott key wrote...
when stewards of the two American political parties
circumvent-ively ignore their bases
and begin cloud seeding nooses in the news
for any and all loose cannons, just if ably
only to anoint a more comfortable mollification
there is more than atonal angst afoot...
when they're putting more importance
on putting forward a pleasant face
atop all the gerrymandered unseemly(s)...
they have once again
forgotten the legacies
of populist candidates past...
it has been asked recently
when does pretending
something doesn't exist
cancel out its ability to affect you...?
when do we graduate to life
beyond some vagaries about tradition
and choice worthy moments to graft
ideas of liberty versus security
onto what constitutes a living
breathing compact of peoples
with ideas to share...
the membrane airways
and waterways are tides here
where we are now(s)
and where have we been(s)...
swimming floating formed
we have in each of us
an inexorable march
toward this thing
called being alive
it is why we thrive
when our backs
are to a wall...
though these days
with so much living dead
in our heads, how can we not
just be desperate bones
wanting to be soul
heard praying
in a right way...
no, I am not
really sure
about any of it
to be wrong or
long for something
and it is just as well
for this poem seems
more a song
of redemption
for trying
than buying
any roadside
attraction
on my way to hell...
why would anyone dare
to care beyond
their own comforts
and creatures to legislate
at the very least
a sense of civility
and accord for something
more than a selfish regard
for a broadly narrowed
way of thinking...
---------------------------
coda in the handbill
a disembodied chorus starts
furtive at first
with lights in fade
curtains slow culling close...
"yeah, they're probably
getting rid
of all those
wooden doors
in your town too..."
EJR ©
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ReplyDeleteI just hope not to be alive if our species loses the ability to live humanely...and if all I can do or surmise is surprise the minds full of eyes that a nose may know more than you or I ever do, well a noisy finite pretending to be his own sweet music this poet's life will be...spectral aspergers symphony
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