Being a combination of Imagination’s Kitchen and Dreams of a Great America
(Flower Power by Bernie Boston)
I. A LAMENT In the not so distant and yet improbable time when love was ascendant even as it was short-lived and co-opted in frenzies fed by big money songs dance festivals fashion evangelistic love enthralled us while others fueled obscenities the great powerful didn’t care to hide. As we celebrated aspirations and illusions the machine rolled on steel treads manufacturing arms and armaments napalm and plutonium agent orange consent and opinions - war. We never stood a chance. Dancing became marching singing – shouting love – anger. We flared and though some long travelling light remaines we never never really stood a chance.
(photo: mine)
STAND
at the edge
of the forest
listen
what do you hear?
- Prayers
From the forest?
- No, outside
Phff…
Meaningless.
Prayers for possession
ghost prayers
iron and concrete
prayers for water
poisoned to be pure.
Listen into
the forest
what do you hear?
- Nothing
Nothing?
- I hear parrots
At some distance
I hear a jaguar
I hear leaves rustling
The forest
must be
praying.
Praying? Don’t be silly.
Living, growing
moving, approaching
inexorably moving
and those ghost prayers of
iron and concrete
you may have heard
don’t stand
a chance.
RW
Puerto Vallarta, MX
04.02.2024
Every so often I catch a glimpse of that light & I think, well, at least there’s that.