FUNNY AND STRANGE
How could I have expected
that after a long life I would
understand no more than to wake up
at night and to repeat: strange,
strange, strange, o how strange, how
strange. O how funny and strange.
- Czeslaw Milosz
Leaving the ranch to darkness, to
the half-moon and sparkling starlight
pressing to see through black February –
leaving it all alone to listen inside
to the TV news, the pusillanimous
and picayune for Enlightenment
this Election year. Lost my hearing
at the Shrine in ‘69 and lost my
patriotism in May 1970 – but still
I remember the long-haired revolution
that forever changed foreign affairs.
Children then, waiting for our M-16s
at graduation. Have you forgotten
how it was and why we’ll not have
another Draft – nor draft dodgers,
draft card burners, protests, peace
candidates and more than enough
love to go round a couple of times?
Spin of wind, terror and the weather –
fear upon fear the night outside ignores
as it adjusts to a Mayan calendar
helps sell new drugs with the catchiest
nomenclature – and legal enough
to stone us all the way to the grave.