Occupy: first-ish thoughts

September 24, 2011

I’m consumed.  Everyone needs to know there’s a revolution at the doorstep, ringing the buzzer, trying to get us out of the house.  A house with repainted walls and boxed food that only takes a few seconds to heat then is gobbled down in front of plasma screens, showing court cases and hallow celebrities.  Media men discredit those picketers.  The one’s who’ve got nowhere to stand.  Always taught: “You can make a difference” and “You can accomplish anything you set your mind to”.


If you don’t mind, stop telling us we’re a disorganized lump of hippies beating on drums out of tune.


At least we’re beating.  A song will come in time, with a chorus of followers, evolving our forefathers’ demands.



September 1, 2011

A dream

perhaps a memory

what’s the difference

asking now


Silly questions broke

silence, resting

above the water

tires barrel through some other state


Every time it rains

in all directions,

blind sight and swollen

fingers guide the wheel,

space between the line

thud thud thuds

of reflectors met spun rubber