Wednesday, July 15, 2009

O my Soul

Apologia for my Vitas

Trying to strike a chord: not say
anything anyone doesn’t already
know: what good would that do?

Ring true & resonate a resounding
agree-ability o yes I know what
you’re saying, like wise, I’m
sure, absolutely makes
good sense to me.

& I want to appear a smarty, too
while saying it: can’t deny the Ego
his due, this little light of mine,
that would be a crime— cover up.

Lucky enough to have an obsession
and compulsion that costs next door
to nothing but time spent indulging:
no carbon footprint or green betrayal,
only the paranoia that comes with
any acute sliver of attention-span
so efficient it occludes all the rest,
a crime against the whole; I don’t
deny it: deficiency, an ignore-
ance monumentally accuse-able,
irresponsible, slack-dog, gold brick
neglect. No defense but to turn the
other cheek—and that’s not piety
either but kick-ass practicality

Change Change Change

The rules don’t apply let alone the
fact that we live under them anyway
knowing better but not how to change.

Big Rules still inform but their
manifestations are always up for
grabs, embodimental relativities,
cultural contingencies, conventional
conveniences: ways to skin the cat
I get used to.

A student called to say he wants
to start a school in Tennessee:
set it on a rocky top and watch
some slovenly wilderness rise up,
sprawl around, no longer wild &
take dominion every where like
nothing else in Tennessee.

Secure Martin Duberman’s
Black Mountain, I advised:
An Experiment in Community:
see how a college might start
up from old scratch: read it &
weep the tears of a clown
to get a lucid scheme
up off the ground..

Habit & Habitat for Humania:
butt-covering clothing emporiums
for empires & emperors alike
addicted to the common sense:
Jimmy Carter raising high the
roof beam carpenters building
more stately mansions shutting
me from heaven with a dome
more vast o my soul.

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