WHEN WE THINK

When we say terrorists
We do not think of Coca-Cola or McDonald’s
When we say weapons of mass destruction
We do not think of pharmaceuticals or agribusiness
When we think of fundamentalists
We do not think of Wal-Mart or Nike
When we think of oppression
We do not think of multinationals and cartels
When we think of poverty
We do not think of the lack of imagination or reason

When we think
We do not think


* * *

WE SHALL BE DEAD SOON ENOUGH

We shall be dead soon enough
and done with doubt and caring
which are like familiar names
spinning, spewing, getting stuck on the tip of the tongue

but till then I’ll live in awe of being
cry out in pain and anger at what hurts
hold on for dear life to the web of joy
that always ends in sorrow
and look through windows
whose shades a shadow-hand rolls up and down
quicker than the speed of light
just for my delight.

* * *

ON MY WAY TO YOU

I was on my way to you
when the familiar road diverged
where before it had not.

Detours surprise
and the adrenaline can take you to fear
or forgotten roads

with no signs to warn you
of closed bridges
or dead-end intersections

whose scarecrow arms
offer neither destinations nor distances
to anywhere familiar.

Curves and curses are facts
as solid as sad bulldozers silent
by the abandoned roadside.

The crunching gravel I take for grinding teeth
the dust spun, a metaphor for lost
the heat’s mirages for laughter

and I remember
to get there
you take all sorts of roads.


* * *


RAIN

The rain drops in like a kin on its blood
bringing cleansing gifts in its crystal skin,
most welcome from a country far above
to an Atlas with his ear to the ground,
weak and pale under an eiderdown.

So you come to me dressed as the morning
light from the east of mysterious dreams,
mindful of the dark mistress adorning
my bed of nocturnal and scattered leaves.

You sip the silence of your secret life
and from the open veins of garden greens
you soak me up as a kin from above
to bloom again in each other’s love.