Before The Virus

Before the virus

We meandered along,

Sometimes with the clarity

Of bees or ants.

Task to task.
One that must be done?

All that you might ask.

One form of happiness

Is having just

Ever so slightly

Too much to do.

Almost not enough time

Condenses the process;

Sharpens the focus,

Provides a tangible goal.

You need to get there.

That sense of urgency

Colors the shadows;

Gives reason its right to be

As well as its certainty.

Finally, with massive

Effort the task is completed.

It’s Miller Time.

And on and on and on

It went before the virus.

Strangers on the train

Sharing glances;

Strangers at home

With their habit dances.

Strangers seeking light,

Seeking affirmation

They exist.

You must persist.

So many planes.

The physical, which is 

Not just for the young bucks.

Can’t get no at any age 

Pretty much sucks.

The ethereal with ideals

Prancing in the twilight:

That time of evening

Where Rod Serling and Walter Cronkite

Might have shared a Bud.

This one’s for you both.

In the city or

In the country

Small town Saturday nights

Are the same.

“Hey, what you hoodlums, doing?”

“Nothing much, Junior, just trying to have some fun.”

And we did

Before the virus.

We took youth and that

Level of freedom for granted,

As we did that the smart people

Would stay in charge.

That the honest people

Would get elected to serve,

That where we call home

Is paradise.

And it is.

Well, was it really?

Or was it 

Just our shared illusion?

That we were the good guys.

We were. In 1941.

Can’t say that now.

Corporations are people

So says the high court.

Just what are those dudes sniffing?

Money squawks as it walks.

It WILL tell you a story.

How many rich men are honest?

How many honest men are rich?

These days in 2020

There are Americans

Wearing and waving

Nazi flags.

There are people

Drinking poison

Because … well …

Honestly,

Because they are fucking stupid.

And, of course,

There is the White House problem.

We knew it would be this way.

We said, “Watch out,

When there is actual crisis.”

We said it a 1,000 times

Before the virus.

Hello Darkness

(with sincere apologies, but no regrets to Paul Simon.)

Hello, darkness, you old fiend.

Have you come to win again?

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a streetlamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed

By the flash of neon bright

That split the night:

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more:

People talking without speaking;

People hearing without listening.

And those people bowed and prayed

To the orange god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets

Are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls.”

Because this spectre

Left its seeds while i was sleeping

I thought I heard truth speak

But it was barely peeping.

Then I heard the screams

That were planted in my brain

And they remain

Within those sounds of violence

"Fools," said I, "You do not know

Violence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you."

But my words like silent raindrops fell

And echoed in the sounds of violence.

Hello darkness, you old fiend.

You’re so close to winning again.

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time

Before the smart phone,

GPS and the internet,

There were printed road maps

That, amazingly,

If we followed the signs,

Would lead us from

A home in North Carolina,

To a destination, for instance,

In Arizona or Florida.

Or anywhere really.

City maps.

County maps.

State maps.

Region maps.

Even maps of entire countries.

The maps were the kind

That had to be folded up,

And that was the hard part:

Actually getting the map

Back into its pre-purchased shape.

Once upon a time

We made telephone calls

With a rotary dial, and

Kept an address book

With the numbers

We needed to call.

At one time

There was just one phone

In a home, often in a central location.

Progress brought extensions,

And folks had it easy

When getting a call in the dread of night

With a phone right next to the bed.

If one was lucky

The TV had 4 channels 

That one could actually see and hear.

Then cable came along,

And that changed what we thought

Was everything.

More, however, did not mean interesting,

A theme Springsteen addressed

With "57 Channels (And Nothing On)."

Little did we know then

That this was the tip

Of the glut iceberg.

Nowadays, those

Who still have cable can whine,

“1200 channels and nothing on.”

Once upon a time,

Music was played with

Use of a vinyl disc

On a record player

For much of the 20^th century.

Some fancy folks

Had 8-track in their cars in the 70s.

Then came cassettes.

Followed by CDs.

As digital advanced

Car makers included auxiliary ports

To hook up mp3 players. 

There were even designated iPod ports.

And until recently

Most cars had CD players.

But those days are over.
CDs in cars have been discontinued,

Because most people now

Use their phone to connect

To a music streaming source.

When the internet arrived,

It was rightfully deemed a remarkable invention.

One could communicate

With anyone else in the world instantly.

The earliest days of "online"

Were sublime.

But as humans were involved,

It did not take long

For the other side of the sublime coin

To make its presence known.

And soon, the Smart Phone marched

Into our collective reality, providing, in essence,

A computer one could fit in a pocket or purse

With which one could go online anywhere,

And even speak with someone else.

But texting gradually replaced talking

Partly, perhaps, because it can be

Such a passive-aggressive mode

Of contacting and informing.

It became clear that the tool that offered connection

In real time was actually being used

To defer engagement;

And because words on a phone screen have no tone,

Meaning, or even worse, intended meaning

Was often lost or misunderstood.

“I didn’t get the text,” replaced

“I didn’t get the call.”

Recently while on a tour bus at Gettysburg,

I noticed there were as many tourists

Staring at their phones

As there were actually 

looking at the battlefields.

That’s fucked up.

The Smart Phone can be a vital resource

But if it breaks, or it can’t be charged

Its owner is often left in a dark ages vacuum

Without threat of an answer or a result.

At times, the Smart Phone can be

Allah, 

Jesus 

or Lao Tsu.

A Smart Phone is often

A newspaper,

A juke box, 

A photo album, 

A source of endless self-congratulatory nonsense

In which one becomes the star of his/her own universe.

You can Tweet, you can Messenger, you can Snap and you can Instagram.

You can feel as if you are connecting.

But that’s the virtual rub.

Most of the time

You are simply gazing into a digital mirror

In the vain hope that you get "liked" and retweeted.

And because anyone can post and claim to be factual,

A smart phone makes it easier to scam and con 

Enormous numbers of people in an instant.

Does this remind you have anyone, say,

Who is orange hued and opposed to facts?

Does not have to be this way.

We lost John Prine

But his wisdom remains.

Decades ago, he advised:

“Blow up your TV, throw away your papers

Go to the country, build you a home

Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches

Try and find Jesus on your own.”

All of this still works

With one caveat;

Blow up your smart phone, too.

Or at least learn

How to be efficient and effective

Without it.

Instead of texting,

Actually speak with someone.

Digital is as quick as it is cold.

And these days,

Who needs more cold?

Hunker

Are you a facts and science person?

If you are, you might have a rapidly growing strong sense that in a couple of months we will wistfully look back at March and April as that calm time before the real shit went down.

Hyperbole? Fear? 

Sure.

So, what's the point of sharing?

This country is now in a situation where fake leadership has no purpose. When a Jared Kushner replaces a Dr. Fauci on the front lines of pandemic strategy, or a Navy captain is fired for trying to save the lives of his crew of his infected aircraft carrier.... well ... it's mighty difficult to think we're at the far end of this tunnel.

One can go pretty crazy from this by paying, perhaps, too much attention to the incompetents continuing to display their incompetence.

So, in my case ... take a breath or two. Focus on what i can do and that's wash my hands. Again. 

As Bette Davis would say, "Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy spring."