Flux Density

This poem was originally published in The Watermark 

FLUX DENSITY



With different rules, under a new order,
the slant may tilt at an alternative angle,
the floor could become the ceiling,
creating a whole new set of circumstances.
Try imagining for a minute your life then.
Nuances, while not so subtle,
could save your life.
Then again, the very thing that wants
so badly to turn everything upside down
may very well be the inverted idea
of an idea already standing on its head.

And yet, with another set of rules,
the order could slant towards other,
more fantastic angles, where the weight
of change may grow too troublesome to bear.
And so, in order not to be crushed
by the process, another change
becomes necessary, leaving things
as they are, in a permanent state of flux.

©Peter Birckhead

According To Thomas Cook

ACCORDING TO THOMAS COOK



the bullet train leaves before you're ready.
It hauls everything people say you need.

The rest of your life's going back: circular
notes & fees exchanged from barred windows,

scrawl scratched onto old boxcars, half-remembered
conversations in-between destinations.

At the station the lines are moving fast and slow.
Gentlemen in bow ties & mustachios are collecting tickets.

Try leaving ahead of time or showing up late.
The excursion's just the same.

With all the whacks and thwacks

that correspond with consciousness, just say
whoopee to that dog and pony show.

The bullet train arrives before you're ready.
It will wait for you the rest of your life.

Requiem

This poem was published in the Beacon Street Review in the fall of 1999.

REQUIEM FOR BLUE FEATHERS

“I’m not even trying,” Azalea said, as she zeroed in on the target.

Everyone was either limping or crawling

through the last five miles of the day.  Our mouths were dry

with the dust of past generations.  Dreams had been kicked

and scrambled into oblique forms against the red roofs

of our town.  Oceans were being drained

to re-fill the old vat of marketable rebellion.

There was no separation between the senses.

“Too many outfits,” someone else said,

as Azalea lifted off the ground in her blue swan feathers.

The dark November wind had settled her breathing

back into fire.  We took bets to see which alley she’d turn up in.

I couldn’t decide whether to turn away from the view or be sick

in my socks.  It was getting colder and all the tattooed

lovers were selling their stocks to keep their place

in line before she crashed. 

“It’s a world economy now,” I said, burying my father’s

hospital bills in the backyard.  Every hour was sponsored

by Microsoft or Mobil.  We wore sandwich boards to work

to ward off the inquisitors: “I am not a socialist.” 

Meanwhile, I dreamed of Azalea’s blue flight

as the last editions of independent thought

caught between my teeth like raw meat.  For now,

we wake to the lovesick strains of mediocrity

rubbing its dreary wings together. 

Memorial in Arizona

The President gave a moving speech last in Arizona on behalf of the victims, victim's families, & the nation in the aftermath of the horrendous shootings in Tucson last weekend. Watch the full speech here:

Bolin Forest

I moved last summer into a great community in a forest abutting a wonderful creek.  I spend a lot of time walking / running in these woods with my dogs.  Daily I'm stopped in my tracks by something beautiful.  Here are a few photos from my little corner of the world.

  

Rosendo Romero - FANTASIA

In light of the previous post I wanted to share this piece of fine accordion music from South America.  Last year I picked up a great collection of Colombian accordion music, "Ayomobe! The Heart of Colombia's Musica Vallenata" (Smithsonian Folkways) which I keep coming back to.  Truly wonderful music!
Check it out here: http://www.folkways.si.edu/albumdetails.aspx?itemid=3210