I wrote this one on Tuesday night. It concerns justice, in broad strokes. I hope you like it. 🙂
Cold Chili
The music washes everything away—
My longing for supple, suntanned skin,
My clapping my hands over my flaking ears
To shut out the sickness, and the shouts of poverty,
My yearning for the round green world of equity—
And centres me on breathless, burning feet.
I breathe, and take the scent of cumin into my soul;
I open all the cupboards of my mind
To let the sultry, sensate summer sun
Inhabit every crevice crammed with oregano,
And bore through every hole where basil lives.
I spiral out into the olive groves of Gaza,
Where I weep with those who tend the scorched, cracked earth;
I fly from there to Attawapiskat,
Where drinking water still comes in short supply;
In gentle London, anguished cries arise
From every mosque and every crying church.
These adverse affects ask for our attention,
And as we mourn and burn, we must learn their names.
Gargantuan, granite Progress is a myth;
We’ve sacrificed position for pure speed!
Like fleet electrons in the dark of space,
We may go faster, further, but we’ve cut ourselves off
From webs of life—from broccoli and crunchy kale,
And cauliflowers and all their friends.
We’re not beholden to benevolent bees,
And make no effort to mark the journeys
Of monarch butterfly or humpback whale.
Connection is our consolation now…
Our lonely prize, now that we’ve won the world.
We win the brilliant world; how will we gain our souls?
What vivid goal is broad or deep enough
To justify subtractive and extractive spite?
What dark detachment still may sunder us
From this green frame that helps us feel alive?
I breathe out, and I feel the stubborn ache
Of ardour for the life we gain and lose.
The creamy Congolese coffee sunders all pretense,
And may awaken me to ribald righteousness,
Or turn me to a tacit, tensile truth.
A Thoroughfare For All Thoughts 