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.
Friday, December 23, 2011
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1 comment:
good to believe in interruptions!
Thanks, Thom!
love,
c
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