Something Other Than Truth

 

It's something other than truth

When they talk

Something other than truth

Won't let them hear

Something other than truth

Must rise like a cobra

In a basket

And sway and strike

"My check isn't coming

I can't pay my bills

My doctor is gone

I am dying"

Something other than truth says

"You are not dying

Because you are not real

There are owners of emerald mines

There are those meant

to work and die

In the pale green light

Of the narrowing tunnels"

Something other than truth

Like an esophagus shot through

With a Johannesburg diamond

Like a crane metallic-ripping

The land that forms an island

In the middle of a lake

Digging and removing

Disappearing land

To finally falter

And topple

And vanish

Itself

Guy Gets

 

guy gets a part time job to pay for health insurance

the full-time job & the part-time job

stress his body

his mind begins to falter

guy is tired & gets injured

at home doing some task

now guy can use his health insurance

Northwest Midwest

 

Put the Pictures of Your Saints on the Wall

 

Put the pictures of your saints on the wall

You're going to need them

You're going to need the black and white photo

Of Thelonious Monk in wrap-around sunglasses

Perched over the piano ready to construct

Angular cities of notes

You're going to need the picture of Keith Jarrett

Fronting his European quartet

At a club in Sweden in 1974

Conjuring abstract forms in gospel piano clusters

Put the pictures of your saints on the wall

You're going to need them

As the stalking metallic hyenas

Who want to snatch the beating heart from your chest

Approach the gates of the city

You're going to need the postcard picture

Of Andre Breton sat down at the table

Of another cafe with another cigarette

Taking a break between writing

And seeing the friends with whom

He was seeking to expand the domain of the heart

Riding a skiff through underground Paris canals

Emerging out the side of the Atlantic bluffs

Into a sea of stars

SONG OF THE MAGA

We'll Finally Be Happy
when trans folks have vanished
when queer folks : in closets
when companies : whites only
when women : no vote

We'll Finally Be Happy
when no books but the Bible
when Pope Francis : excommunicatus
when empathy is over
when only we can see doctors

We'll Finally Be Happy
when nature says 'uncle'
when the seas are all molten
when no limits to workweek
when the children : in mines

We'll Finally Be Happy
when Jews live in fear
when Muslims know our hate
when Black people know shame
when we all Nazi salute

We'll Finally Be Happy
when all planets are conquered
when some of us : immortal
when art is reigned in
when their dreams are our dreams

We'll Finally Be Happy
when pollution : no limits
when animals: no rights
when refugees : refused
when the disabled : shut out

When we have all of this
we will finally be happy
when we have all of this
we will finally be happy

for one moment
for one breath

until we need more

- dh 2/25

A MERITOCRACY

Of the ruthless
Of the heart castle-walled
Of the soul space-jettisoned
Of the dull dreams
Of the flat staircase
Of the surface oracle
Of the malconnected
Of the leaving-the-human-arriving-at-zero
Of the doesn't-understand-the-divine-in-the-animal
Of the seeking-the-wrong-god
Of the damned

THINGS THEY WILL NEVER KNOW

 

70,000 years ago
weather events large animals
accidents bad luck
had us down to around 5000
croucheddown in caves
under cliff faces
burrowed into warm sand
we emerged again somehow
some dispersed
caught by the wind
into new lands
and watched the seeds
how they fell
into earth then sprouted
into something strange
bloomed into something magnificent
we told the harvest stories
don't try to be like a god
don't fly too close
to the sun with wax wings
didn't matter
we enslaved people
caged animals
attacked forests
when nothing else was
left to take
it was next
our shining ideas
symphonies written
in hangover states
syncopated calabash rhythms
tapestries necklaces rings
the shape and heft
of a canoe a rowboat
songs sung going to battle
songs sung returning from battle
chinese watercolors
of mountain lands
brief eggshell poems
written about those paintings
your mistakes
your embarrassing photos
your dream journals
at least if they went up into
harvested to sell
back to you
they almost got it all
but i am thinking things now
imagining things now
longing for things now
i will not tell you
and they will never know