Oh, gosh:
1.”Look for the worst.” We come
into the world accursed, but “some craved out of that” like out of the
hopelessness of a Calcutta alley. The odd use of “craved” as an intransitive
verb is killer. The desperately desirous ambitious rise to power, in other
words.
2. “Grope for the cause” and you
learn that all those who have something to say now are “comfortably
established.” No kidding. Power will safeguard the status quo that led to its
power, no matter how nightmarish that status quo for the vast powerless.
3. Atomic warfare? It blew off
the atmosphere. Perhaps it’s just as well the stuff rolled away. Think of the
problems that would solve! Yep, in the bitterest of ironies, there’s no doubt
about that. Extinction is one excellent avenue down which we may solve the political and economic justice
issues of the world.
4. The Dream Song form is
stretched with three extra lines. An old leather chair, which has supported and
comforted numerous friends, has its guts showing.
Powerful. Here’s a response:
Richly
to My Burning
There clings the blithe air
around my planet
Brittle as onionskin.
Gas it, hey, and the Tongass
beneath bursts
Into brilliant celebratory flames
The Chukchi Sea
A well-salted
Walrus and narwhal broth.
The blueblack pole
Signals Mars for a gift of white ice
Which winks a bloodspot in the
blackpeppered night
And hangs otherwise aloof.
I will walk richly then to my
burning
Joan of Arc’s brother
Head haughty, contemptuous as a
saint of the English
Oil, the Royal Dutch
And Double-Exxèd
Oil,
Ecstatic at the gas-fired whites
that sear my blithe onionskin,
Throughput to cool oblivion.
Problems solved
In the sanctifying fire:
Holy: Nil.
KZ
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