Petrifed Cactus: a poem of the pandemic
he's an innocent bystander
in his own life
so many invisible things
to not think about
& one that I think about all the time
& I long for the day
when that line will need a gloss
Buster's ashes & my father
are invisible things
but one that won't go away
naming them
inflamed them
perhaps America will have an idea
perhaps not.
perhaps Melville is
as much evil as I can face
is Lefty black inside?
is culture the past?
if nothing follows
can we live it up?
like the people with AIDS who spent everything
& then didn't die
I can't get over the wall because I only ever learned
to go straight at it
I need to be
no longer dead
May 2020