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Showing posts from January, 2017

Why Obama, Why Trump

Our route is littered with towns from Illinois to New Jersey rundown broken spirits crumbled people-less homes like homeless people. Committed to despair by man’s inattention and time’s impatience. Paint peeling on white picked fences with rotten posts. Rusty tractors decaying in gardens amidst wildflowers. Signs reading ‘for sale’, really saying ‘abandoned’. Here its seems life is stripped down to its essence: survival. This dilapidation of America real evident indisputable sad revocable? unplanned is a crisis. You ask why Trump won the election The answer self-evident in this scape of rural America. Just as you had asked years ago why Obama had won? and I walked with you thru inner-city Paterson with it’s discarded human forms huddled in doorways, Adult bars the only businesses open for commerce, Fearful people moving quickly to comfort scared kids looking out of keyholes at immortality degeneracy decline decay. There too, the Signs that read ‘for sale’, really mean ‘abandoned’. That breakdown of America’s fabric its promise its contract… T…

Wisdom?

The world  is now neither  worse nor evil It  is  your eye jaundiced of age, judgmental, seeing less interpreting more. Ask  your grandchildren about  a like or dislike and they will make a choice … easily. Ask  yourself the same and  you will  choose conditionally, include context, deliberate.
Is this wisdom this wavering this  uncertainty this  caution? Or is it wisdom to  dive headlong into the river knowing  that there is a  current yet knowing  nothing more?
For  who knows what  victories  themselves reveal  to unfettered commitment and  experience elude?
And who knows which  failures spawn celebration and  experience implicate?

The Pip squeak

I was driving to work in the early morning. The car’s headlamps struggled to illuminate the country road as its wound its way past scattered fields and dormant churches. It funny how the road bends but the twin beams of light emanating from my car don’t. As these beams of light zig-zag over barns and surprised animals, sleeping willows and picket fences I start to see the first raindrops gracing my windshield, first lazily and then more affirmatively as if announcing their own arrival. All the while as my car and I bob and weave over low-water crossings and by red barns we are watched by a silent canopy of low-hanging fog that isn’t sure if it wants to touch the earth or just us watch from afar.
It feels like we are alone, my car and I but its Monday morning and seven and a half hours past midnight. If I look ahead of me there are cars and when I look behind there are cars. An unintended convoy, we snake through the country under the cover of the overhanging fog. As I round the fami…

Minding the Gaps