Within me and without: The big, blue ocean, And too the night, The monsters that sat well with me, But hostage’d were my hands, And I all guilt reasoned away. (http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jan/28/adolf-eichmann-final-message-architects-holocaust-evil)
I was there, from the day was the smallest of beams on the horizon. And it came to me as a dream: the gathering, and the swelling, and the dispersing, a soft machine that lets me briefly there…then takes me quietly to that other place.
Down to my last coins, I count them all in front of her, Searching for disgust, Found only the sun, In the cheery countenance of Her cheeks. I called her Grace.
From the factories, how the angry, purple clouds rise; to the skies, the softest of blues to the palest of whites; to the east, where the blazing orange sun rages; across the bay, where the carefree gulls glide lazy*; by the side of the road, and how the wild wheat endure the terror of theContinue reading “X28”
On his second coming, and out of the political wilderness, an elder statesman laughs off the suggestion he was no longer a democratic socialist, that he was no longer committed to the ideals of social justice. We made mistakes back then, he says. We put the cart before the horse. We pursued economic equity. WeContinue reading “Joshua”