WHERE DOES IT LIVE?
I am knocking on strange doors.
I am searching for good news.
No one will buzz me in.
Haiti told me to get lost.
Pakistan suggested I check with Somalia upstairs
The Congo threatened to call the police.
Indonesia said it’s raining fire, you think I have time for this?
I could tell Ireland was quietly drinking inside.
Down the hall by the United States I saw this sign:
“Solicitors subject to arrest.”
Meanwhile from somewhere...the relentless hum of a 1000 spinning centrifuges.
Time got mugged by midnight.
I was tired. My feet hurt.
It’s been raining steadily for two weeks, and
the sun’s begun setting after lunch.
The papers say Venice is still sinking into the Adriatic.
I can feel my body warming. I watch the glaciers
retreating toward the Artic Circle of my mind.
Worst of all,
it’s only Tuesday.
November 30, 2010