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Hermetic Angels

Sunrise is a coldness of light, the way
small sparks make way for bonfires

but not fire; but something else
between the spark and the flame.

Here we have hermetic Angels, cave-dwelling
wings. To take refuge in the damp corners
of under the ground is to highlight
the stark difference between earth and sky.

Because we exist between things.
We are not, as they say, of any world
but only of every world.
See them flying down corridors? these poets
of our creation who climb relentlessly
up and down ladders; who raise hands
to raised knives and deliver veiled threats
to our children. They are poets, yes,
of an age far passed.

If you listen carefully you can hear
their muffled screams through
our thin walls.

Again, between this room and the next
we become parts of things glistening
as if in morning dew. As the sun rises
so does the morning.

It can happen no other way.


When the Park Dreams of Growing Up

First planting your feet.

“Of the earth” they would say “roots in the concrete soil”

Then the suffering of small things: wounded acorns or patches of browning grass never to sprout or grow tall in a cool field.

There are both times and places for these things. Hence our understanding of tarmac.

Too often we are left with the sound of a conversation heard but not understood nor meant for us. Like calling to god through a thick wall.

And that which is meant for us is obscured in static. We are the crackle and fade of a bad connection. Because sound sounds more systerious when one must hold an old drinking glass between ear and door.

And still the acorns have their language, too. They converse with the dying grasses on the subject of poorly planted trees.

Lastly, all of this is merely as real as a dream. We chose to hear or we choose not. We uproot ourselves when we move quickly toward the next muffled sound.

Commenting Update

I wanted to take a moment and drop a word in regarding a recent WordPress update that now allows for greater flexibility on the sort of user accounts allowed for commenting.

As of this time, the ability to sign in and post under Twitter and Facebook accounts has been added to the already available options of either posting without an account or using a WordPress account.

In light of this, I want to encourage anyone who has a thought to share to please do so in the article, as it is now far easier to comment with the new options for account settings.



The city is our augur-
each discarded chicken bone,
each fallen tooth

a whisper of prophecy.

And the predicted continues
to stir in small breezes
which shift the shape of bones
and clear the cool sand
from the leeways of the street.

This is ever-known and always whispering.

And our feet crush pebbles and bones
which speak to our destinations.

We are both silent and raucous
in our speech. The city cannot hear.

Parents hide behind themselves
in the cool summer dusk.

The children wait for laughter.

So many people going about
so much “business”, we forget
that our world is business. Our feet
and hands the wheels that drive us.
Forgotten handshakes
and vivid walks by the trail leading
between our small homes.

And the spaces between us
seem empty, yet we see not
the stones and grass

and discarded feathers
from frightened birds.

The spaces of the city are always full always waiting.

Sometimes at night I dream of clotheslines
stretched over the Atlantic. Swept
about by sea-spray, our disguises

flapping like flags in the wind
for the sea-captains
and their lonesome crews.

To be a part of the city is to be lost at sea.

I walk between the strings
as they sketch outlines
of streets and buildings, of tunnels
and parks and metro stations.

Each hanging shirt filled with the voice of wind;
each shirt full of the stuff of ourselves.

We are empty shirts navigating by the north star.

Ghosts left of some elusive stuff
awaiting the day to be reborn.


Stupidity Again

I am continually amazed by how absolutely stupid the general population tends to be.

I want to let that sit for a moment. Go grab a coffee or tea and think for a moment. Ask yourself, “How stupid is our general populace?”

Far more often than I’d like to admit, I find myself asking the same question over and over again. Over time, I have learned that in order to not go completely crazy I have to shake it off and just get on with my life. Every once in awhile I come across something that forces me to confront and consider the implications of our shared stupidity.

Like the fact that it is now, apparently, a crime to be in a playground without accompanying children.

Okay, let me get a few things straight before I really get upset and lose my ability to form complete sentences: yes, it was against park rules; no, I don’t fucking care what the rules are or are not.

So, two women in the city got summonses to appear before a judge because they sat on a bench in a playground and ate doughnuts.

My rage from this incident isn’t about the stupid legal issues or anything aside from the fact that the very means by which we are attempting to protect our children is making them far more vulnerable than they ever were before. These sorts of incidents work to destroy community, limit communication and place barriers and walls between us so that we hardly ever see, let alone have a conversation with, our neighbors and fellow members of the community. NYC seems to be par for the course with criminalizing behavior and pushing rigid concepts of social acceptance. All the way back to the cleanup of Times Square, the city has been engaged in a double-talk war on the undesirable. Push the homeless and hopeless into worse and worse neighborhoods out of the public eye; criminalize smoking while reaping tax benefits from the sale to addicts (myself included); and now we’re seeing a deliberate and horrific stomping of basic humanity in the form of this anti-pedophile law.

I don’t know, exactly, but I would think that the more adult eyes there are in an area, the less able an individual would be to conduct unsavory or harmful behavior. This is where my far-Leftist brain takes over and says: “Aren’t we capable of pretty much taking care of ourselves and determining what is best for us?” Let’s not take that statement as an absolute, but as a guideline. My experience with individuals is that we usually work together to make our lives better when we know and connect with others. That’s one reason why I was in-part enamored with the city of Springfield, MA when I lived there: that everyone worked together because there were few opportunities for the low-income population to individually thrive. People knew their neighbors and both offered and asked for help when needed.

And in that article, if you dare, breeze through the comments. They range from the (sorely lacking) rational “What?!” to the immensely stupid “Rules are rules and if you don’t follow the rules you’re obviously a pedophile drug-dealer”. I truly hope that we can get past this and put ourselves back on the track to treating each other as human beings.