Menu of Crisis

by steven hirsch called made in portland

Up from the trenches in barbwire flats
We dance jolly jigs where combat
Boots disappear in light digs and lonely dance
Till the bullets bring us down again

There’s a time when good men say nothing
To trees but just lay with them
Ignoring everything on television
And anything grander in Louisiana

For first they came for the Anarchists
And because I was not a pastor
I blessed them all in holy communion
And christened them conquistadors of consciousness

Bound them in chains of brotherhood
As zippy as Mississippi
Till a Trade Unionist said to a Jew
“All I do is dream of you
The whole night through”

So Pastor Martin, Detrik Bonhoffer,
Hannah Arendt, and Emma Goldman sing together
With Donald Trump and Hamza Yusef
Like Mártha Eggerth so that we throw our hands
Back and ride across the line
To the cheers of soldiers
Knowing bullets will never touch us

Besides anyway,
Isn’t it always Self radicalization?
Isn’t it always our mind jumping out of birthday cakes
That we are to crucify?

12-2-15

Art by Steven Hirsch

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1 thought on “Menu of Crisis”

  1. You know …

    The Peace of Wild Things
    BY WENDELL BERRY

    When despair for the world grows in me
    and I wake in the night at the least sound
    in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
    I go and lie down where the wood drake
    rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
    I come into the peace of wild things
    who do not tax their lives with forethought
    of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
    And I feel above me the day-blind stars
    waiting with their light. For a time
    I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

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