Cotopaxi, Ecuador (summer 2012)

Monday, March 26, 2012

Native prairie grass

there is little to be learned from this trial by fire
if one is nude and tied to the most important stake
in the overwhelming presence of anxious enemies,
regardless of the time of day and in spite of several
persistent appeals to a hoped-for shared humanity.
not even half-hearted support seeps from the Speaker,
who has an embarrassing hand holding the doomsday gavel.
it doesn't matter if this speaker is masculine or feminine,
as a lusty sex is never part of their equation.
so i heard the deep bass sound of a 1980's Pink Floyd
tune and "I'm all right Jack keep your hands off my stack"
slipped insistently inside my spinning head, bounced me on The Wall.
When I moved closer to a full time job inside a virtual heart of darkness,
the beating roomful of intensity draped a single hood over my eyes
and from that moment i could not see from sea to shining sea.
the coffee chit chat space reminded me of a television reality show,
never to be canceled in spite of woefully low ratings.
outside, our great smoke is still visible, largely caused by fossil fuel burning
and often conjoined at birth by the charred corpse of a terrible irony.
during break time, a few souls volunteered for Yoga class and didn't seem
to mind trying to be mindful without the past or the future interfering.
their proud city high on a hill decked in white in spirit if not in style,
sits tightly connected in a fast 4G network, unconcerned that
the curtain is coming down, even while the audience shifts
uncomfortably in ever smaller seats.  all the house lights becoming dim.
here, ocean fish no longer go to school in abundance, & the glaciers melt.
no buffalo roam over running stretches of a once familiar world once
greenest with wildest native prairie grass, & the untamed Indians are gone.
no soft touch violet round-lobed Hepatica can be found flirting
with it's slender white eyelashes when a simple hiker pauses in search of lasting beauty.
there is much to worry about when the natives dance in circles
and Wednesday is always known as hump day,
even while the island sinks into the bay.




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Jessica in Madrid, Spring 2006

Jessica in Madrid, Spring 2006
daughter is empowering herself