Blessings For The Modern World
May you arrive undamaged,
although, perhaps, altered –
may you be paid with punctuality &
see your numbers rise and rise –
may your 401k be fully funded and
your losses tax deductible;
may your disasters be covered –
may your blessings be measurable.
The Deathless World
as elemental as fire, earth, air,
the digital world is
deathless, ageless,
all-surrounding us;
we have invented a new alchemy,
a new heaven, a new hell,
and carefully, delicately
folded ourselves into paper dolls
to linger forever, lastless,
where all can see the
ink of their smiles.
the day is
the day is stuck and
bleeding out on the horizon;
the rays scatter, scatter,
hot and rank and steaming –
the day is drifting into
that good night;
and I have made spaghetti.
at least I worked these hands
for just a few minutes;
at least i made spaghetti.
there will be time for fun later
put the pennies away,
nose to the grindstone,
there will be time for fun later –
there will be a time for rest later –
they will build an economic system
based on scripture;
suffer now for heaven,
a heaven
that will never be boiled off the face of the earth;
the future is nuke-proof,
assured,
so long as we never reach it.
The Sick Man Wishes For Wealth
bed-ridden and dying the
sick man screams and prays and hopes
for just a little more time to
labor,
just one more contribution
to his 401k;
the sick man rolls away to
face anyone but her,
as the fire eats up his belly,
and, with trembling fingers on
a half-charged-Samsung,
checks his portfolio
one last time.
Chewing On It
Something is breaking apart in my mouth,
sliced, crushed, drawn
from form to mush,
something beautiful in the gulp
something churning,
sitting steadily pulped and
waiting to give life
BUILDING A WORLD FOR MACHINES
Picture it, picture it,
identical tasks each day –
we awake like
springs, like chain-pulleys and
gears, we
smile our sawtooth edges
we turn & turn
until we crack, until
we’re yanked out and
replaced overnight –
what a beautiful world,
what a beautiful world
someone made for us.
The Scales Forever Tipping
The scales forever tipping
to overflow; so far down they
circle, faster and faster,
the scales forever tipping
spilling both heart & feather;
spilling both coin & lead –
all measurable things are
subtly immeasurable;
all mass-produced goods
nicked here, exceptional there –
the scales forever tipping,
wanting to be free of weight.
prizes
many fine prizes made
by many fine hands;
see ’em heaped and stacked
in the cold, cold dust. Many
fine prizes
for you to win
and win, and win,
many fine prizes worth
as much as you’ll believe –
whatever shakes your shakes
and gets you roaring
to win, and win, and win.
ode to joy
Oh Joy
flightless, fleshless,
lesioned and weighed
down by heavy tumors –
Oh Joy
the world has done so much
to you, and still,
you leap and skitter, poking
beak above the brush,
as the dogs lower their snouts
to the trail.
A Wolf on the Fold