This morning the coffee is so strong it’s almost fertile. It is a morning in which words stick together easily, as if magnetized, drawn to each other, performing as one, in order to bring to pen/paper the headaches, tears, and mourning for what was once a great country–our America.
Misunderstanding and degradation blooms on hedge, bush, and tree. The green lawns and the farmers’ fields are now only baize*; they smell of fascism and carrion. We walk on shale knowing it will never stand the strain; it never does. It appears that some god somewhere has left us to drown in our own reckoning. Our angels and patron saints appear to be vacationing in a place far away.
When this administration has moved on to wound and defile other places, other times, it will be eons before we can “get ourselves back to the garden” (thank you Joni Mitchell). Hell! It will be eons before we ever rediscover the Carolinas, Oregon, the Rockies, or even Poughkeepsie. They are one in the same now.
All, all are punished. All are punished.**
Dear readers, you may have noticed that the center, the core of humanity is refusing to hold. The Beast slouched past Bethlehem long ago, did command performances all over this planet and has now taken up residence on Pennsylvania Avenue. Too many citizens ignored what he is and was and put him there in what was once a place of honor. America is wearing mis-matched socks, jack boots, Parteiadler*** Cuff links, and Hugo Boss designs.
So, I sit down to write poems that are meant to resist Evil and to support other keyboard warriors who, like myself, can only pray, light candles, perform rituals, and write in the hope that poetry–its anger, its bliss, its love, its sexuality and sensuality, its warnings and its ability to find beauty–can still move the heart/mind/soul and mean something.
*baize– Green cloth covering billiard/card tables
**Romeo and Juliet: Act 5, Scene 3, William Shakespeare, 1597
***Parteiadler—the emblem of the Nazi Party