He Is Risen

The rising man
the showman
the big shtarker
did a turnaround:
moved the boulder
clear of the cavemouth 
and bowed in three
directions to applause
you've never heard
the likes of; maybe
once before when
Horus rose from the dead
and greeted the sun
as anyone would after
that torpor the cheers
were louder.  

In the bars, they only talk
of their guy who came
after as the one and only
to shower with gratitude.
And damn the unbelievers.
And don't be mentioning
Asar in these quarters



March With The Zapatistas

There's something to think about
in the movement of the marching
toward a goal that's distant enough
to become uncertain of its outcome.
The men are tilted forward
as if leading horses onward.

The women are devotion, their arms folded
in the creases of soutanes placed as columns.
Determination is depicted. It is a color. Red.
White moon. Blue of moonlight in the mountains.
They go to fight. You see the swords. There's no 
deception in it. Their figures are their speech.

Though wearing peasant dress they're contemporaries
and we slowly merge with them without distress.





Evasive Action

It's all we've got so let's keep it.
Wouldn't you run into a burning building
to save a child? You wouldn't pour gas
on it. Let's get together and make an impact.
Give up those old clunkers you're still driving. 
Sell off the cattle you're raising in your garages.
They're dooming us to extinction.  Beans 
are much better for you and so are bicycles. 
Take a walk with your child and have a conversation
without lighting a cigarette. Purchase
solar panels, buy green tags, adjust your thermostat. 
Throw yourself to the ground to stop a convoy
of tanks slowly emitting CO2 gas in the countryside. 
And get those B-2B's out of the sky. They're GHG murderers.