poem #23

it’s dark at night

it’s light during the day

we’ve harnessed electricity

we’ve pulled down the shades

we attempt an expertise

at making what is

what is not—

until we let be

it’s the getting we won’t got.

a house divvied up

reading Camus again on the can, my life does not not does not need to be legitimated by a father, step or otherwise, but my thoughts could use a companion father, a father companion, Padre Compañero, just as Africa needs twentythree more free presses, or just some Free Press, and free press, and America needs another hole in its bedfellows, needs a noose, though some have taken that too litcherally. you know - we all live in the past, but carrying strange fruit relics around these days puts you outside the fence of Sisyphean philosophy, so if you're gonna tie a noose, please do us all a favor and tie it around your own neck

and jump.