Some things
Are beyond my scope,
Outside my wheelhouse,
Bigger than anticipated.
Maybe I was a contender once
And didn't even know it
Because I was content
With the mystery
Of blowing trees
On the other side
Of an alfalfa field.
But I have become a master
Of pulling weeds,
Sweeping floors,
And sketching faces
Quickly in cafes
When no one is looking.
I never get caught.
I can explain the differences
Between certain types of rock
And how Buddhism changed
Through its migration
From India
To China
To Japan.
So even though the Christians
And the politicians
And most other religions
Are after me
Because I remain cheerfully condemned
To eternal misery
And delight,
I have found it important
And useful
To listen to the black crows
On the old fence posts
Bound with rusted barbed wire
Tied there by ranchers
From old California
Who wore rawhide gloves
And knew enough
About the physics of time and space
To keep the cattle in.
You can tell me 10,000 times
What does and does not matter,
But still
There is nothing quite as important
As a glass of drinking water.
Good people and bad people
Have had magnificent castles,
But the morality of things
Doesn’t change rust or moss
Or the patterns
Of the vulture’s flight.
If the world wasn't so deadly
It would be awfully funny,
But there are children
Being bombed
And going hungry
And voices squeezing out
From the air pockets
Buried in the rubble.
There are even settlements
Beneath city streets
Where the entries
Are iron manhole covers,
And women as old
As our beloved mothers
Find their dinners in trash cans.
And none of that is an accident.
It is what we do.
The importance of teeth
Cannot be exaggerated,
And nihilism may well
Have sprung from indigestion.
Do you ever pause and think
About the number of dinosaurs
There must have been
To have created all that oil?
I don’t know about you,
But I bit off more than I can chew.
And now I see
That sometimes
We must be fists
And put our feet down hard,
And draw a line in the sand,
And loudly shout,
“No, you can’t do that!”
I don’t want to remember
My own thirst,
Or the glass of water
On the bedside table
When my dad was dying.
I don’t want to remember
The flood in New Orleans,
Or the schoolyard shooting,
Or the draught in Mali,
Or the great tsunami,
Or the day the wells
Went dry.
I don’t want to see
The dead cattle,
Or the slaughterhouse,
Or the prowling coyotes,
Or the strange lights
Floating in the midwestern sky.
There is a reason for all these disguises
And TV stations and obfuscations
And supposed experts
Declaring a new crisis
Or new age
Of technological wonders.
And it is all true.
The seas are rising
And the frogs are dying
And we do, on average,
Live twice as long
As a 100 years ago.
The whole thing is about focus,
You know,
“Accentuate the positive,
Eliminate the negative…”
There are good times
To be had,
And places to go
And people to see.
And every one of us
Is another universe,
And every road is made of silk
And every person
Is a foreign land.
We are always on the trade route
Sailing the trade winds,
Looking for the special spice,
The sacred text,
The gene-splice
That will cure
Cancer.
We want to put an end
To it all.
We want to start over
Again.
We want it to last
Forever.
So, grab your gear.
Duck and cover
When you hear the gunshots.
Weep and wail
When bully-death backhands
Someone standing next to you.
Forgive and forget.
Always remember
Everyone is a contender.
Plant flowers in the garden
Of ‘Mister In-Between.’
Make your best recipe.
Sleep soundly
Until the next
Air raid
Sirens.
It’s an 8-hour drive
On I-5
To Southern California,
Where there is this wide arroyo
With old, whitewashed beehives
Full of raw sage honey.
They used to run cattle there
Before the drinking holes
Went dry.
It is a scale of mystery
I can comprehend.
I have no idea
How big this world is.
But I think we need to do more
Than simply say
We have all gone mad.