THE NATURE OF POLITICS: 4 POEMS
TRANSPARENCY
Only a politician could
borrow a beaver lid
for a photograph
to receive an award
in a roomful of cattlemen,
look good and grin
before he retires
to the California coast.
It’s a lifelong art
to ignore the details,
to wring your hands
with pensive deliberation:
squeezing phrases
to stay in office –
to keep focused and believe
someone else will
implement your indecision.
But only the best
get showers of applause
before leaving the scene
of the accident.
OBFUSCATION
The old saw
about giving-up
your right to complain
if you don’t vote
is a rusty and leaky
bucket nowadays
without a vessel
impermeable to
the legalese
of each initiative
or without a majority
with the eye
to make the sort
intelligently.
Designed to tax
both life and paycheck
and make you believe
you like it best
peppered with new acronyms
and multi-syllabic terms
slipping from the tip
of your own tongue,
it’s viable choice
to conserve your energy
for critical protest –
for the alliterative bitch
and disheartened groan
we cultivate
into political slogans
that so often come to mean
even less.
MAKE LOVE NOT WAR
When were young enough
to really practice
the slogans we chanted
before packing an M-16
to Viet Nam,
living was intense
if not insane
and irresponsible.
So much wiser now,
we hire our fighting done
drawing dividends
from all the corporate powers
that keep wood on the fire.
On the short-end of our strings,
it’s OK now
to cut the trees down
to remain warm and cozy
when we can leave the shortfall
to technology
to find an answer
that better fits our nature.
SOLAR
Harnessing
a perpetual motion machine
that would work in the vacuum
of an uncluttered outer-space
might offset the friction
of our consumption.
Somewhat like the explosion
in that first light of Genesis
before the black cloak
of darkness was perforated
by the endless reflection
of all the balls
of fiery energy
borne twinkling,
ever-twinkling
and Eveready
to solve our problems.
Afraid of the dark,
we have turned our heads away
ever since the quince
juice glistened upon Eve’s
naked breasts –
so much more profitable
to allocate moonlight
for baser pleasures
after a hard day’s work
of spending resources
like water –
or even dirt.