Joe in the Dark
Joe stands out in the dark.
Across the street
White House lights are tasteful and warm.
Earnestly glowing, the LED panels chant and hum.
In their silence, they cry out for the land
pleading for the water,
howling and breaking the dark air.
Concrete will at last crack, crumble
wash away down the Potomac,
down the Hudson, the Missouri,
silting the Colorado and the Big Muddy.
We are that water, in it, of it.
Listen to the rattle and rush of it,
ice-out rending and scouring the banks.
In our ears, the bone whistle
trills a plea, a warning across
washed gravel, beside willows,
over snags and shoals.
Listen to the light.
Joe is not alone, on his left, his right
stand those who hold the light.
Under the clean-scraped sky
Jenna and James hold mirrors
cutting swathes of light and fire and love,
zip tying their rage to the fence on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Children beg for their future,
rattling in the cup like dice
they ask for their chance.
___________________________________
This poem is dedicated to all the holders of the light, especially Joe Brusky, noise of rain and badscience.
Much respect is due to livestreamer extraordinaire JamesFromTheInternet and Jenna Pope who is a fine photographer..
Linkaliciousness:
Overpass Light Brigade on Facebook
Overpass Light Brigade website
OLB on twitter
OLB on tumblr
I failed to post the Indigo Kalliope diary last Tuesday. My dog didn't actually eat the poem, but the time I set aside to write and publish it was swallowed up in several short-notice trips with him to Madison.
Mrs ruleoflaw and I have been running Lucky Angus MacPup back and forth to the University of Wisconsin Veterinary School Clinic. Lucky has some mineralization in three vertebral discs just above his pelvis. This is causing inflammation and pain. He is now on a regimen of medication and strict cage rest for three to six weeks.
Life at the ruleoflaw house isn't exactly back to normal, but for now we have some answers about our woozle's condition and a treatment plan that we hope will prevent him from developing Intervertebral Disc Disease. I am very sorry about spacing the poem.
Kossack woozle-lovers need not worry about MacPup. He gets a tasty gob of cheese or peanut butter three times a day, wrapped around his pain pill, which has given him great relief. The other medication he gets for inflammation is infused in a tiny liver treat.
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