“You remember the children you got that you did not get.” Gwendolyn Brooks
I read somewhere
there have been
over 15 million black babies
aborted since 1973.
That’s a lot of lives
a lot of votes,
a lot of political
& economic power.
How many might
have lived, led fruitful lives
& been productive citizens?
Maybe our Messiah came
but didn’t survive
the middle passage.
No electric scooter are allowed
in this safe and peaceful space.
Scooters don’t come with helmets –
using them is not a safe practice.
They create unexpected trip hazards
and spoil the habitat, cluttering
the sidewalks and alleyways.
By the way, new neighbors,
don’t bring your dogs to defecate
on the campus. There are plenty
of authorized dog parks for your use.
Our campus grounds are not one.
Scooters and dog poop are high
on the list of prohibited items.
Matilda is the name
we give to the female voice
inside the smartphone GPS.
We rely almost exclusively
on Matilda. She never fails.
Funny. I remember a time
when we used paper maps
and yellow highlighters. Coast
to coast. Mexico to Canada.
I have logged some miles.
AAA would mail a stack
of maps, all bound together,
with the trip tracked out.
Now we have Matilda.
Sometimes I feel her tugging
at the steering wheel,
insisting we go her way.
One day it will all be connected.
They are not happy with AG Barr’s remarks.
They are not going to be happy when the report is released.
They are not going to be happy if/when Mueller testifies.
They were so certain SHE would win. Huge disappointment.
Nothing short of that will make them happy.
Can we be adults and just move on?
Ray wants to write Haiku tonight
but I won’t let him – I decide
what gets written & how & why.
Ray’s at his best operating machines –
processing inputs that produce output,
while he minds gages and thermometers
that measure the machine’s internals.
Ray also likes to garden – I let him
do it every now and then. He loves to see things
pop out of the ground, break the surface
and lean towards the sun. I think it’s odd
but I let him because I know machines
capture his soul and try to convert him
while gardening brings out his soul’s sweetness.
I don’t know all the answers –
Hell, I don’t have half the questions!
It’s not like chemistry or physics
Where if you memorized the equation
You can plug and chug until
All the units cancel.
No. Life is much more complex
Than experiments in a science lab.
More complicated even than nuke school
with mandatory study hall.
The beginning of it all is obscure.
The end is an unknown unknown.
The middle is a spring thunderstorm –
Dark clouds gathered – lightning piercing the sky.
It is not my wish to be a center,
the center of anyone’s attention
save my own, and maybe not even that
most days. It’s too much work, too much effort
to keep all the little pieces on track,
all the debts paid, the payroll met each week.
Instead, take me to the periphery
where I can read my books and write my poems
in total peace, not concerned with no one’s
interiority except my own,
a river flowing gently to the sea.
Plant my seed deeply before the storm comes,
irrigating the dry soil above it,
leaving my future calmly in its place.