Friday, December 23, 2011


The cray ‘s'mas lights
All come greet me

Cape Cod all come what
Beacons X-mas taps

Thee out when
Light is about returning

Not just birthing
“It is a cold world”

The cab driver says
While I tip him, “have

A good life if
I don’t see you again”

His repartee is
Good natured

But rehearsed, nights
On Cape Cod in the winter

Some places are pitch-
Black the highway

Like the sea undulates
They are foreclosing,

He tells me, on all the
Houses the greedy

Got greedier
The wicked wickeder

This year you can’t
Convince me after 40 years

Of this shit that it can’t
Get worse but I swear

I love the Cape
Without people

David Graeber’s Debt
Is on the kitchen table

Of my parents’ house
I haven’t read it

Yet it has the seduction
Already of something

One should read to feel
They are part of their

Generation, this poem
Is for all my friends

December 22nd,
2011 I don’t want

Any of you to die,
I want us to live

The best we can,
Let the (living) dead

Consume themselves
I believe

In interruptions,
Not endings.

1 comment:

charles said...

good to believe in interruptions!

Thanks, Thom!