1. |
||||
PACKED UP AND READY TO GO
Got my passport renewed
Got my address up north
Got my trunk full of maps
Got my tank full of gas
Got my DNA test
Got my Plymouth colonists
Got my persecuted Protestants
Got my Dutch immigrants
Got my hoodie up
Got my legitimate weed
Got my savings in gold
Got my wallet full of ID
|
||||
2. |
||||
MY GUY DOESN’T KNOW ALEPPO
Oh darling, how dreadful these foreign affairs
How love is buried under rubbled ton
Who am I to speak of such matters
Told in briefings, whispered in ear
Advisors don’t know what land’s in your heart
Let’s stay home, dear, keep our bedroom secure
|
||||
3. |
Dakota
01:06
|
|||
DAKOTA
River will rise
Flood that camp
High water
Leave no trace
No tail no turn
Redraw that line
Drive your stake
Into higher ground
|
||||
4. |
||||
WALT WHITMAN’S OCCUPATION IS POET
Closeness happens as a matter of density
Huddled atoms orbit, clash randomly
Electric, riotous and well-loved
Poets to come amass when shoved—
|
||||
5. |
Reading Bei Dao In Exile
01:18
|
|||
READING BEI DAO IN EXILE
Write about the moon
And it’s a political act
Mention bees swarming
And you get a riot
Tell us what you dreamt
And we interpret horses
As unfettered democracy
As cavalry charging in
Choose the word “spring”
And the Eastern City tweets
Make it a couplet
And you stop a tank
|
||||
6. |
Idaho
01:00
|
|||
IDAHO
What love is found
In predawn maneuvers
Military trucks keep
Engines humming
No protection
As troops advance
Uneasy ceasefire
Before detonation
What line is drawn
What border crashed
A minefield waits
Outside our room
|
||||
7. |
||||
HEY, THAT BOY’S WEARING PINK
Take me down where the line gets blurred
Take me down where the line gets blurred
End up where there’s only one door
I wanna be where labels don’t matter
I wanna be where labels don’t matter
End up where there’s only one door
Don’t make me choose because I won’t
Don’t make me choose because I won’t
End up where there’s only one door
Watch me cross their arbitrary border
Watch me cross their arbitrary border
End up where there’s only one door
|
||||
8. |
||||
BLAH BLAH BLAH (ANOTHER CONGRESSIONAL HEARING)
Word choice matters
Language clatters
Media chatters
Blah blah blah
Tongued enemy
No subtlety
Lies publicly
Blah blah blah
Mouths flap
Fill news gap
Load of crap
Blah blah blah
|
||||
9. |
||||
EVERYTHING THAT NEVER HAPPENED IS MY FAULT —BOB KAUFMAN
What proof you ever lived these times
These streets your awareness walked
History leaves movements in fragments
Hauls your evidence away in trucks
Documentation left in files
Statements given and never taken
Your memories redacted
Unpublished and never spoken
|
||||
10. |
Wyoming
01:32
|
|||
WYOMING
Boxed in and off the grid
They’ll have to hunt us down
Keep the shotgun loaded
Hold me tight in your arms
|
John Burgess Seattle, Washington
John Burgess writes poetry in public places. His first book was Punk Poems from Ravenna Press.
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