The former Bernie supporter

"So you're the person with the righteous bumperstickers!" I said to a woman at the ticket booth to the Temple; she'd gotten out of a truck with four Bernie bumperstickers, one I'd wondered about. "Yes, I used to love Bernie," she said, "but I gave up on him when he surrendered to Hillary." Now she doesn't care. I said I was happy to see her truck, because most of the cemetery employees seem to support Trump. She doesn't like any of them now. They're all on the same team and just pretend otherwise. She had a spiritual experience during COVID and realized that none of this matters. Everything will be ok. "But what is ok?" I asked. She smiled. I asked if you couldn't think both important, politics and the spiritual life. No, the politics drove her crazy. I said I wondered at how she could be both so cynical and so hopeful at the same time. "People call me a walking contradiction," she said. "Everything will be ok." Lilith and I walked away. "Vote for Kamala," I said.

Identity positions: Elegy 27

Identity Positions

Identity is other

People / what they

Want us to

Be / one thing

Or another / or

The operative word

You either fit

None or most

Shape-shifting where

Shape wasn’t goal

But way station

Like a comma

Between clauses or

Items in lists

Store bought selves

Easier to shelve

Than silly putty

Or broken egg

Identity is history

Not essence you

Knew / culture not

Birth stamp but

Stories some of

Which might sometimes

Be true--

Kintsugi: Elegy 26

 

Your brothers all

In uniform / lavalavas

Flowered aloha shirts /

Between them complicated

Politics let drop

Easily I lay

On the couch

4 a.m. the next

Morning / jetlagged /

Feeling their grief

As mending as

Scar tissue denotes

Healing more than

Hurt / when Selina

Broke down at

Magic Island's healing

Circle and I

Put my arm

Around her shoulder

("The fittest poet

In the world!")

And the space

Between us warmed

Like you were

In there somehow

Holding out your

Finger which we

Saw directed at

The ocean sky

Whatever is clear

Measure of compassion

Where measure is

Not at issue

Mending comes after

A broken pot

Packed full of

Flowers / gold stitching

To show us

Where potter drew

Shard to shard

Where we made

Lines to erase

Distance you are

There like tree’s

Paperbark mouthing joy

When wind arrives

Gold Watch / Elegy 25

Gold Watch

No consolation to

Be remembered I

Know / to be

Divorced from am

Or are / verbs

Have lost their

Tenses you need

Not learn them

Or wear watches

(“It’s about time,”

Eddie Vedder says

Of Trump’s $100K

Bling) to see

Time that cannot

Be seen except

In retrospect memory

Invisible fog unless

Developed on leaves

But we yank

Them off branches

Wood and water

Water and wood

Lake sodden with

Houses timber animals

Roofs / who protects

Us now without

Your presence / friends

Orphans / you who

Were drawn to

Underdogs doggedly watch

From heaven’s keyhole

Return to child’s

Images for what

Cannot be seen

As ascension (the

-c in Italian

Sounds as -ch)

Like Chimney Rock

That floats in

Lake Lure no

Allure to wreckage

Someone’s uncle is

Missing someone’s child

Is missing someone’s

Missing as you

Are: there, presence.

On wearing a Harris/Walz shirt in the south

 

A woman my age flashed me a thumb’s up at the rest stop near Bristol as we crossed paths. I smiled, but wondered why her hand was held so close to her body. Did she not want the man behind her to see it? I sat down on a bench near the car. She came out of the restroom and walked up close to me. “Do Trump supporters ever go after you for your shirt?” She asked softly. I said no. “Are we the silent majority?” She thought me brave for wearing my shirt. She didn’t know “why they’re so ignorant,” and worries what will happen if he becomes president again. Some of her nearest and dearest. After she said she’d just have to pray, I noticed the cross hung around her neck. My husband arrived. I told her he’s with us. Her husband walked by, not greeting us. She and I said goodbye with our hands held palm to palm.

 

Just north of Lexington, at the top of a very high flagpole, flew a confederate flag. Only slightly faded.

Body / Mind: Elegy 24

Body / mind problem

The body is

Present / the mind

Past / the body

Identified by her

Hair / flesh’s corruption

A test of

Mind-body problem

We want mind

We get body

We want body

We get memory

In a cloud

Uploaded filed away

Not by us

Whose memories they

Are but by

Apple to whom

I pay each

Month to keep

My photos safe

Of bodies not

Souls even if

Eyes offer windows

To experience / not

Its concept / words

Fail / meaning too

Much not enough

Body smells bad

Soul is non-allergenic

You are neither

Now peripatetic friend

How do I

Talk to you

Without them / here

Scams: Elegy 23

 

Scams

The pendulum between

Rage and forgiveness

Selina calls it

Someone wrote asking

For money for

The killer’s psychiatric

Exam (which is

Private in Samoa)

Someone else asked

For money for

The killer’s daughter

Who didn’t have

One / I said

No / I cannot

Forgiveness is gift

Not offered in

Exchange for money

The grifter still

Grifts from prison

Says she’ll plead

Guilty then not

Demands release on

Bail wants wants

Wants wants wants

She gave us grief

Our daily bread

How do we

Offer it back

This heart appliance

I remember Sina

Calling to tell

Me about her

First Nigerian scam

Letter before we

Knew what they

Were something about

A prince a

Bank account her

Money to save

Someone in distress

She didn’t fall

For that good

Story but when

She entered Sia’s

Door she did

Not come out

Again / alive