Waiting for Paradise Con/Jur/d, 4/5/2024 Spring is heavy today a dusting of snow we’ll mow the lawn later The birds are calling in dreams of sex drugs, rock & roll, with a smattering of punk techno, psytrance, goa, triphop, jazz and elevator music We argue with the city about physics what constitutes a slope, which direction water flows and who’s responsible for the early buds and where the leaves of Fall, fall down down down How can this be true? Children are murdered without consequence our neighbors believe in outsourcing their pain to a returning messiah, coming back, any day now, foaming with bibliomancy, powered by fumes a dream of astroturf and plastic flowers blooming ALL SEASON ALL INCLUSIVE ALL YOU CAN EAT ALL WE CAN DRINK ENDLESSLY-- ENTERTAINING--DESIRE--WITHOUT--CONSEQUENCE hanging out forever, with the same people who made you this way Watching snowflakes swirl above the greened grass listening to a low flying plane uneasy with what it portends Trying to remember paradise is HERE NOW or never.
Paradise Remembered Con/Jur/d, 4/5/2024 The etchiness of Spring jittery joyousness, life arrives as if there is nothing else but this body, with its sharp LINES yet, robins mating smash into the dining room window, squirrels, stare from nook and crook with unknown INTENT chainsaws zig, snow on irises, daffodils ZAG dog choruses improvise and embellish what just last week was a singular, solo BARK noisome sun, the exuberance of newly soft earth, the busyness of air brushes and blows over, around, through fingers, noses, hairs both hot and cold ZIPS occluding this everpresent PARADISE
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 4/5/2024