Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Burn

What do you do with rage?
I’ve never experienced such rage.
It brings me to my knees.
They report that he
Holds a little stock
In a pharma churning out pills,
He has a bunch;
Blatherers on the tv
Report this as if a punky white kid
Grabs a couple of drawers of moola
From the A&W
When the girls bring your floats 
And burgers out to the trays on the
Driver’s side 
A friend in another town says
Her chum thinks vitamin c
Is the answer & laughs in her 
Bubble of ignorance as she 
Moves about, all hippie 
Spreading germ
And Jesus she, I guess, means well.
I don’t have time anymore for 
Bullshit 
I know whatever I do I 
Must color in the lines
But it sure as hell doesn’t mean
Meditating, or tweeting, or praying,
Practicing mindfulness, writing letters,
Knocking on doors, 
All that too-fucking-late shit 
Or believing in anything at all, 
Because this parchment is already
Shredded, it’s been smoking,
And no one makes anything whole
From the smoke of treason. 
Can we help one another 
Now to find how to prevent 
Obliteration?
I don’t know, do all of the above
Like we think we try to do, 
But it won’t be enough, I tell you 
Look. 
The falls of spring, spring rains 
Are rushing, 
Wider than Niagara,
Taller than Taughannock, Victoria
No one in his or her right mind 
Takes a canoe or a raft or a boat
Any known life ship
Over such falls, 
But here we are
We do it.

 

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