Sold Down The River
foamy blobs cover water
“Beaver Vomit” the kayakers call it
part decaying leaves
part agitated oxygen
part farm fertilizers
like egg whites beaten stiff then browned to meringue
it’s the price of progress
the sages shake their heads sadly
what’re ya gonna do?
apply pressure and they’ll threaten
take back their contributions
so we are left behind
part dead fish
part open sewer
part cancer unchecked
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Tasermiut Fjord Kayaking Exploration |
Nordic Aspirations
Great Leader wants [us] to own more fjords
[us] is sorely lacking in fjords
but with this acquisition [us] would be fjord rich
would become number one owner of fjords
By every measure of greatness
[us] would be fjord historic
fjord fantastic
fjord fabulous
fjord famous
fjord fulsome
fjord flourishing
fjord fancy
fjord fairest
fjord flawless
fjord finest
fjord fundamental
He Shall Separate The MENS From The WOMENS
here, only GIRLS hands shall rub together
twist faucet OFF
rip paper towel from holder
in bathroom mirrored to be one dimensional
stocked with the obviously definable
teeter-tottering between IDs leveled
and lo, it shall come to pass
the creeks shall flow clear
the fish shall shimmer
the animals shall skip
the meadows shall flower
and the loyal shall inherit Everything
Agency
Discovering our lives were made up
interwoven, fragile filaments ❘ networks of:
Good Morning / Good Evening
You Got Here First
You’re Welcome / You Betcha
I’m In No Rush
Excuse Me / How Are You?
Don’t Mention It / How Nice
Thank You Kind Stranger
I’m Glad I Could Help
I Appreciate the Gesture
Please, After You
You’re buying chips and a soda
while my cart is full
The podcast Rumble Strip has put out a call for audio clips that reflect the "sound of now." The call inspired this poem about what's on my mind after last week's blackout at the National Institutes of Health.
The Gulp of America
thermostat set at lukewarm 65
raise it two degrees in case of showers
usually remember to reset it
furnace’s roar a grind against his mind
try to soften the door’s click as it shuts
maybe today he’ll get three hours sleep
walk to work is thirty-minute trudging
icy sidewalks broken by boot imprints
supervisor appreciates efforts
wishes paycheck could be commensurate
grant given by agency bankrupted
funding shortfalls are an unforeseen shame
Not Me Bolsters
I am a stress fractured
tibia
unable to support body
weight
forward momentum
terminated
Not Me is an air cast
compressing broken bits
cushioning each new step
Not Me Swells like Mahler’s Symphony Number Two, the Fifth Movement
I am a flat line⎹ precise graphite⎹ mark on page
Not Me begins as nightingale flute call
to which a mourning dove sighs a reply
first solo, then duet of grief, then the full choir is mummering
now the strings are shedding tears, now the horns are wailing
now the whole orchestra interludes in ascending scales
climbing from whip-poor-will weeping to meadow lark’s trill
next organ interjects, holding onto a clarion hawk cry
finally, the cathedral bells chime their dawn greeting song
―――――
Informed by “Mahler Listening Guide Symphony no. 2 in C Minor (“Resurrection”)”
Bettie Jo Basinger https://utahsymphony.org/explore/2014/11/mahler-2-listening-guide/
