spring

 I said to nature, 

"I want to be you, quiet and slow. 

I'm tired of the world of men. 

How can I become a part of you?"

Nature answered: "you die." 

Nonsense

We went skinny dipping in the murky lake. 
The cops chased us through the graves.
I got burrs in my hair, you were stung by a bee, 
Running naked on calloused feet. 
Over the wall where flowers crowded out the crumbs of concrete.  
Too long a tale for the barren screen. 
Painless, safe and dressed in the air conditioning
They choose to be gods 
Without memory.  

Big House (song)

 

Trump vs. Nature

Empty marshes sit
Waiting for humans to fill 
The pit with buildings. 

In response to Trump's State of the Union Address when he said that great Americans "filled the empty marshes". 

A Bold Willingness to Knock it all Down

 

Trump’s state of the union address was full of lies and vitriol. Though he stuck to the script more than usual, his anger and divisiveness came through, almost as much as his obsession with gore and death. He gave as many awards as he did misleading statistics. He congratulated himself for unsubstantiated victories. He framed Democrats and undocumented immigrants for everything that is wrong in the world.

After watching, I experienced an exaggerated feeling of what I feel every day since Trump took power: a sense that our country has been taken hostage by a madman. Nobody seems to be able to stop him as he steers us abruptly towards a future determined less by democratic principles and more by authoritarianism and unrestrained crony capitalism.  Everything I value is under attack and losing big.

Though I should have just gone to bed after it was over, I instead decided to listen to Abigail Spanberger’s  Democratic response. I told myself that this might soothe me. I didn’t know much about her. Perhaps, I thought, she was a Democrat who could effectively slay the mean ugly king. I wanted her to assure me, convincingly, that the things I love are not going away.

But as the speech unfolded, it soon became clear that neither my tall order for her, nor the giant pit in my stomach, were going to be filled. This was the best Democrats had to offer? A wooden, unrelatable bureaucrat? Where was the passion? The fighting spirit? The vision? Her words were like the icicles hanging over my front door, sharp, perhaps, but ultimately cold, and due to melt away as soon as the weather warms.

After it was over, I had to watch an episode of Star Trek, the Original Series, just so I could get off this forsaken planet for a little while. 

I’m not a campaign strategist, but what are the Democrats thinking?. Trump is creating a gaping, pus-filled wound, yet somehow the suggested remedy seems to be expired paste.  It is centrism, masquerading as pragmatism, which means that after all that has happened, the Democrats are still allowing their identity to be molded by the republican agenda. Instead of grabbing the wheel, they offer us no more than a soft steer back to business as usual and sell us false economic promises that they will not be able to deliver upon. 

And when they don’t deliver? The old reliable American pendulum will swing back right again. The price of eggs will go up and down and so will the stock market. There will be no houses, then there will be too many houses. The rich will do whatever they want and the poor will endure whatever they must. Inflation will keep going up, and we’ll argue over who is to blame. The GDP will keep climbing and well argue over who should take credit.

I’ve lived in America all my life, though I’m not sure if I can find my social security card and two forms of original identification to prove it. I am one of those people who could go broke after one major emergency. For what my opinion is worth, the economy is not very different than it has ever been. It’s not great, but it’s not that bad, either. I have my basic needs met, for which I am grateful. But, as much as politicians try to take credit or deal out blame, the economy has a life of its own that is not affected much by the policies in Washington D.C.

Meanwhile, there are a few things happening right now that our politicians can address. Our planet is in deep trouble, nature is in steep decline, and chemical pollution is killing us. Habitat destruction from unsustainable farming and development continues unabated. Trash from our ultra-consumer society keeps piling up. If we continue to burn fossil fuels, many places on the planet will become uninhabitable. If we don’t do something, we will soon face resource scarcity, unprecedented migration and conflict. These are urgent matters that require bold leadership, good policy, and powerful, visionary messaging.

What the Democrats need, I think, is their own Trump. I’m  not referring to the lies, corruption, lawbreaking and nastiness. I’m referring to the unwillingness to accept defeat and the courage to buck the status quo. They need someone who can deliver the simple message that we can’t keep wrecking our earth, and we can live better. The left needs somebody who will unapologetically move us forward to a nature positive, green energy future.

Trump has already torn everything apart and is building it back in his image. Let’s seize the opportunity to build it back in ours.

The Hole

There is a hole where now you see the sky
But a tree was once there, a giant tree that knew and grew
So sturdy and giving and sprawling, shaping, 
And now it's a hole that's gaping
The capricious air flows 
And leaves no ghosts. 

Christmas 2025

 The machine has big tires, the poem, the page. 

The machine is a riot, the poem is quiet. 

The machine roars, "It's either progress or rot." 

The poem says, "yes", if the mind is a lot and the brush the thoughts unseamed, 

The machine rules the world

The poem resists, and sighs and dreams.