One can still fill whole books with descriptions
of enemies, prosperity has its dangers
In the virgin forest the sweet-toothed bear
stripped many a colony of honey stores
The digger wasp penetrated, then man followed suit
testing & smelling, taking what wasn’t his
Standing beside his brother, a strong memory for place
and a larger & more demanding ear, eager for the music
Kill in the midst of the forests of night
expounding orthodox or singular (secular) aspects
of an imagination, any human, any common reader
rushing again for the daily newspaper which
facilitates, you think—perhaps mistakenly—
a discussion of relevant problems, a study of
the grand design, a stand on all the issues
acknowledging the dagger, the gun, the stick
A kind of metaphysical rebelliousness, wagering
positives, I know I do it too, loving more
wisely than ever before with an awestruck voice
a clever voice, a downside voice, on to the next topic
Rhetoric can’t be easily explained in politics
The thing inside the thing, the object of this discourse
is precept rather than object, I take these vows
in meditation, that the truth never be a problem
Is the forest in error? Is the sun too?
Do we have our eyes in hell with the tyger?
Ambitious pride is ruling there with the Lords
of Materialism, the genius needs to aspire
beyond herself on wings of convoluted irony
The trouble is history, the trouble is primates,
faulty logic, late-night temper, polemical half-truths,
radiance of fame. Is power good or bad, simply?
I am a questioned-developing-thought
A gap in me, a gap in eternity, casual glances
caused by radiation, sketchy enthusiasm
by this thought struck dumb in the presence
of how do you say “emptiness”? which is filled
with light & energy, food for all of you
I want a thorough attention span, outrageous logic,
a sinew of wrath to kill, to cure
One may fill whole books the way she exits
the plane, the way the artificial light
is blinding the way the same Lords of Materialism
pierce her eye, & anything you want you can
get anywhere you are on this protracted
protected soil, in fact you needn’t exert yourself
too far in any direction, others have been
hired to walk for you, to talk for you
To do your thinking on the Op Ed page
which is infuriating today in its
dumb one-man-upmanship point of view &
as I perceive it, lies, what to do about
it in a relative space for outside the sky darkens
the wind is intense but doesn’t blow your cares
away, including that passion that rises up in you
towards all of them, the students, the protégés
Distract me from killing again the fool
in the castle, the youth’s necessary
voyage I want to speed up towards some
kind of transmission, aw cut it out
Awe is the number as the plane wobbles
in my head now, and she or he or you too,
as the case may be, disembarks again,
& again faces the shopping malls of Florida
And again rushes to telephone home
like the stranded alien. The wires cross
in the complexity of the gulf stream too,
getting across the message, make contact
not simply to destroy but simply say “I exist”
But if I don’t I do too in awareness
Take this body away on the next flight,
shake it down or just let it breathe
Hiding behind a cocktail and a polite quip
about economic viabilites in terms of
energy proposals for underdeveloped nations
This is a serious business, this is a serious
retaliation from the money world
& finger pointing & fist shaking
You’ll come running when the time comes
I wish it would come soon like any good apocalypse
Turn the version upside down, roast it
over the coals then see what it looks like
It looks strange, it looks daunting, outmoded
& she (the image) resembles a dream of myself,
brittle charcoal dakini, so passionate she burned up
in fiery charnel ground doing more battle in the world
Yet light shines in spite of all you manufacture
It shines harder as it occurs to itself to go out
And this is the 5th sun according to the Maya
give it another chance, or round of applause
We kill each other as we speak to keep dominion
and kill as we love, shy by the fountain, angry
on the Spanish Steps, outraged in Bhopal
You name the place I’ll be there, killing with my
thoughts, loving too—it’s out on the street again—
stepping off the plane from Managua to Miami.