Friday, October 12, 2012

While The Fascists Were Being Elected

While the fascists
were being elected,
much of the populace
was posting photos
of their cats on social
media, discussing desserts,
and exchanging
clever quips. The
fascists found the path
to power laughably
smooth. So they laughed.


Copyright 2012.

"To Think of Time," by Walt Whitman

Artists in an Empire

If you're an American, you're a citizen
of an imperial nation. A general
and a president (a general and 
a president) gave us fair warning
about a military-industrial complex.
He had helped to defeat one earlier.

If you're an American artist (poet
or painter, musician, novelist . . .),
you're an artist in an imperial
nation, which makes empire
your business by default.

What can be done about this?
This begging question loiters
near you. You see it or hear it
or you don't.  Or you do and don't.

What does an American's art
have to do with this American
empire? That's another question.
The questions pile up like
things an empire builds.


Hans Ostrom, copyright 2012

Bank of Dreams

At the bank of dreams,
he deposited seven flesh-eating
nightmares and withdrew
one anxiety-dream in which
he has but three days to find
permanent accommodation
in the swarmed, oily city
of Otos, where many
apartment-structures look
like salmon roe, each spherical
unit holding one frantic life.


Hans Ostrom, 2012

Said

Said, "Clouds, go over to my friend's
house, but don't drop rain."

Said, "Hawk, sit on a power-line
that stretches all the way to Paradise."

Said, "River, sip some tequila, then
salt-water, when you get there."

Said, "Star, you are what you are,
and far is your situation."


Hans Ostrom, 2012

Monday, October 8, 2012

"Autumn," by John Clare

It Is Election Season

It is Election Season in the U.S.A.
The Right knows exactly what it hates
but not what it supports. What passes
for the Left knows exactly what
it supports but not what it opposes.
The sheer weight of cash
breaks the back of democracy's
bridge: boom--into the river.

In the meantime, no fundamentals
will change.  You could say it was
lost in the Constitution. Or later,
when railroads took over.  Or
even later, when no one listened
to Eisenhower's farewell address.
You select your starting point,
your ending, your epistemic closure.

It is lost. Those who would challenge
the fundamentals were exposed
as noble but impotent: Occupy.
Those who should be occupied
pretend to be our close personal
friends: the media. Those

who work too much for not
enough will always
and forever get The Shaft.
It is Election Season in
the U.S.A. White men
are hanging chairs from
suburban trees, a most
safe evocation of lynching,
indeed, sir. Indeed sir.


Hans Ostrom, 2012

Garbage Disposal

("Insinkerator")


It is a rabid wolverine trapped
in a mine tunnel under the sink.
It is the misbegotten id of the kitchen.
As it masticates food we wouldn't
touch, it snarls, snorts, and chokes.
It is the lawn-mower's mad cousin
holed up in the gothic under-counter
cabinet with terrible chemicals.
As I stare into the sink's hole,
afraid, I hear the monster lacerating shadows.
I will feed it a fork again one day
because I must.


Hans Ostrom, copyright 2012

Sunday, October 7, 2012

A Bridge in Venice

When you reach
a bridge in Venice,
you feel as if
you have arrived.
And then you don't
feel that way. You
look at the canal.

People move past you,
you who have become
an obstacle. You realize
that Venice has arrived
at you. It is taking
your photo, which
it will slip into a crack
between some stones.


Hans Ostrom, 2012

"Bathsheba's Song," by George Peele

"While Not a Leaf Seems Faded," by William Wordsworth