When I walk a wide circle,
I am tracing the courses
of planets and galaxies
and spinning electrons.
Step by step, beat by beat,
I echo the rhythms of time,
the pulsing waves of its vast body,
breathing, breathing.
When I walk a wide circle,
I create my own universe.
I invent my own body of time.
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'One evening…an actor asked me to write a play for an all-black cast. But what exactly is a black? First of all, what's his colour?'
-- Jean Genet
Spoiled brats with guns play at being revolutionaries.
The way to wreck the economy, they discover,
Is to stop buying things. So they move into
Trash bins and scavenge jaundiced ribs,
Quote Marx and wave Mao’s little red book,
But it’s still only women who have to clean up.
They are roped and chained like slaves, held
At gunpoint, made to bend over and shake
Their booties on rap videos where machos
Bling, and bling again, as if gold teeth
Could turn anybody white. Concentration
Camps collect what gets punched out the mouth,
Turning crack fat into cakes of soap,
Chemically cloning from the gene pool
Special fragrances to cover up the smell.
Everybody’s becoming a brand name;
Nobody realizes they’re feeding on each other,
Since laugh tracks can be switched on or off
So America knows what’s supposed to be funny.
Dream merchants market reruns of reruns
For people to enjoy what they’re fond of.
The shin bone beats tribal rhythms on
Human flesh stretched over a drum
Within a 140-word limit.
[Disposable Poem December 8, 2010]
Dr. Mike
Dr. M:
Some great lines in this one. Thanks, sir.
H. K.
For the record, my wife took today's photo. Thank you, Dear.
H. K.
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