Clearing My Desk
I’m sorry I was
sick
on the road
at the gym
on retreat
meeting a deadline
buying socks
freaked out
watching baseball
painting
grieving
when you came to town
…I was too
broke
tired
busy
discouraged
dirty
unhinged
ecstatic
embarrassed
sad
desperate
to answer yr letter
in which you asked me
for a blurb
a place to stay
to come to yr reading
concert
garden show
or to fly for free to L.A. to do a memorial
for our friend who’s been dead thirty years
or more, I can’t remember
to send poems to yr new magazine
with the nifty name
or to yr friend’s anthology abt
fishing
millennia
grandmothers
jazz
buddhism
whales
bisexuals
modern art
hospitality
revolution
tribal law
rock n roll
education
dope or
native plants
I really wanted to
write something for that festschrift
support your union
nominate you passionately for a grant
give you permission to set my work to music
composed by interactive computers at MIT
or to tape all my Beat poems with an Australian accent
and didgeridoo
I’d love to send money (if I only had some) to
the UFW
Nalanda Translation Committee
Greenpeace
Project Open Hand
the San Francisco Jazz Festival
the Society to Lynch Newt Gingrich [or Sarah Palin]& that new one: People Against Impermanence
(such a sweet idea)
I didn’t mean to ignore you
or hurt your feelings
but if it helps
feel free to respond to this hasty note
with icy silence
I will understand
Why Money Makes Me Feel Bad
I feel bad if I get some — why should I
have it when other folks are poor?
I feel bad if I’m broke — I’m sure
I’ll end up being a burden to someone somewhere
unable to pay my half of the bills….the
rent or the mortgage.
I feel worthless & evil if I’m
behind in my taxes…They’re going
to come for me in the night…break
down my door…And I’m scared
& guilty if I get them done
on time or not I know there’s a big mistake
somewhere & they’ll find it
I’ll go to jail……Even tho I told the truth
have a piece of paper
to back up every number.
I feel sure my tax accountant will despise me
when he sees how little I make or
how much I owe. He will think I am
the lowest of the low…tho I always pay him
as soon as I get the bill.
How handle this?……How feel OK?
Do I have to stop
giving money to TruthOut & other
left-wing peace-mongering animal-saving orgs?
giving so many gifts to the kids
the grand-kids, the great-grands?
Turns out I lost money last year……My partner’s
worried……I feel guilty
cause I lost money & even more guilty
because he said “Oh dear” when I told him about it.
I want to crawl under the rug.
We don’t have a rug, we’re both
allergic to rug mites…I thought I’d be happy
when all the taxes were finished before deadline
but no, I’m not, I’m more miserable
than ever……even tho I owe nothing
& nothing to show for it………unless
you count this poem.
October 6, 2009
Meanwhile the World Goes Down
This land is inhabited by a tribe
of screeching madmen…Who only know
the raging terror behind their eyes
and greed and greed and greed
inside their skulls.
You step out on yr porch for a minute
& are swept up
shot down
or you turn to stone:
Those are the choices
There are always choices.
That’s what makes us great.
October 30, 2009
At least the Bay Bridge snapped
Maybe because the people
haven’t. They just keep going:
dopey smiles, dopey music in
their ear buds. Somebody
had to say something
& the dolphins, if they tried,
wouldn’t be believed.
October 29, 2009