Poet Commentaries


There is some old money in the old country, this always makes me suspect of my roots.  Perhaps slave trading is in my genes; or pirating.  I comfort myself knowing there were perhaps goodish bad guys even then, people who dealt fairly and looked after their cargo. Ancestors who knew how to build and maintain ships. The money could have been made out of pure wit and industry too.  There is hope.

I think, what does a slave trader look like today?  Is it possible that in the future I will be known as the guy who used Roundup or in anyway participated in the proliferation of GMO’s or plastic wrapped Barbies?  Was I an aider and abettor of lower wages and the dismantling of our social safety nets by ever paying under the table.  Horror of horrors, did I ever cheat an insurance company.

Pigeon shit on my statue,
I am glad someone
has lopped off my head
so I can’t see.

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