she was a fake and he found out
now she lives in the nightmare of her dreams
nightmares of always lost
she buys a ticket to Washington, D.C
but “they” fly her to Norfolk, West Virginia
nor folk or foe only the endless halls
and elevators and mindless masses passing
she realizes “they” have tricked her, and,
more important, it’s a rerun
her hands cover her face in deepest desolation but
there’s always one angel this one
a female, a frump, dishwater blond, a middle aged,
touching her right shoulder
she awakens in disgust
of dream robbers.
8 a.m. Moonday morning in Tokyo
five years is a very long time
Pentagon’s birthday: 11 September 1941
Pentagon’s grutting: 11 September 2001
60 years and now plus five
old enough to retire old enough to crack
doublespeak:
Iraqis killilled Iranians
we will kill Iraqis and then Iranians
when you come into my garden enter as a fool might
a child of wonder child of awe
child of everlasting curiosity
religiosity – check at the door
we all have tales to sleep and
we all have tales to weep and
now is a good time to be Mr.
Rogers’ good neighbor Sam.