Category Archives: America

“Infinity Is Not An Option”


“Infinity Is Not An Option”

Infinity is a not an option to the wise
Whom merchants surely aim to multiply;
Expansions glory through the sun’s countless spies,
And self-deception hoary wonder mystifies.
I come to a momentary backbone balanced in art,
Buttressed by the elbows planted firmly
On the dinner table, hands, these gentle urns,
Burn at the fingertips, as do tethered breaths hard
Upon the lungs, these caves; in my heart
Incisions through the bosom, flowing downward
Toward my former strengths, in portions buried under scarred
And wasted regions, long ill-used (and no longer under guard!)
And these depleted mounds, these still-born folds—
Still further earthward than I would ever care to know—
I tire, and would to God it were not so
I smile, a little resigned before I go.
He does not like this war, he knows he knows
Better, he who himself was there and yet remains
Aloof. His fans are still there, his memories, the soft refrain
Of others who, like himself have come to sow
The seeds, the pulling of the gears, reverse
The streams, the trends, the flow all too late to catch the glow
Of stars and cosmic banner and bylines, and spangles blown
Awry by ruthless bugles, blasts in pride, the hell you say, and, cursed,now, you’re right. He sees, and he is here to state as much,
To put the record straight in no uncertain terms,
The bottom line for all of us, the sum of parts he’s earned
To wake the dead, their elastic majesties’ exhausted at last, corrupt
And humbled once again as Michael Jackson crochets
what’s left of his martyr’s noose
With Whitney’s toasts to his health not far behind
and America’s once upon a time is up.


“They Address Themselves”

“They Address Themselves”

They address themselves—their colours, fear and greed—
In grand default, in arbitraries, red, white, and blue,
And tributaries of their most great trepidation; it’s in the glue
That holds all expectant thralls in line, the call of need,
Acute in desperation, destiny in denial, and the expedient seed
Of Cain’s bright logic sprinkled liberally through each faithless day. The crude
Supposal of some slight spark in God’s oversight spawns rude
Reactions in petulance and ingratitude that feeds
Itself upon the notion that once created, “`twere no request
Of ours for breath or life,” and ërgo ours to burn, ours by right
To tax in proceeds, harvest excess and forget the usury of the loan
the blatant requisite of all demands, the values of a single moan
In chorus.  Worship cause, deny effect,and give them straw to bind their deficits
–We’ll rise again; we’ll perogue the day and place it on the shelf;
we’ll suspend the right another night and no one need attack the nation; America’s determined from within its destiny’s to turn the gun upon itself.