| Poems of World War III |
-------------Charles Levenstein |
| Benchmarks I. The Big Dig sent tunnels into the harbor And will submerge miles of skyway soon. When the dust settles and workers Pack their tools, we will sit on benches In urban seashore park and ponder The busy-ness of all those years of flashing Light, detours and full speed ahead, Cranes with unidentified objects high above, Earthmovers and muddy pile drivers trudging Beside broken roads, helpful police, Snarling police, all on overtime. Sailboats Will grace the harbor, we will sit and fish From the docks, children again by the sea. II. Yesterday I drove E. to the new courthouse Built on a synthetic peninsula before The militia blew up Oklahoma City, I dropped her at the chain-link fence Where guards eyed the old Toyota Until they spotted her lawyer's kit - They no longer sport machine guns, The real threats are likely to come From the sea, perhaps Yemenite patrol boats, Or the air. Old professors are easy, Until they join the protestors, Muck up the waterfront. III. Now that I've announced my intention To get out of the traffic sooner than later, Colleagues and friends eye me with suspicion, Cannot imagine that I'll leave our puddle, An old frog experienced in dodging the omnibus, Weathered floods and drought, helped To build the damned puddle from a splash In the gutter to an illicit playground For mischievous children, ah the mud Still feels good on my skin! Nevertheless, the Big Dig is over, I know nothing about placing sod Or growing flower gardens, I have my own reptilian dreams, Set aside for long enough. IV. And what about The call to pen (not arms), Clarion from Prague to Cambridge: Chomsky says to tell the people, While Havel said speak truth to power, I'd probably tell whoever wants to listen. Just as likely I'll draw a crowd From my bench as from the puddle. |