Excerpt from “Delusions of Authenticity and Certainty” (essay, September 10, 2024):

We, all of us, are ineluctably ignorant of why we exist, why the world exists. And this ignorance, this intractable inability to know our purpose—a single purpose for the existence of humanity—has, for millennia, driven all too many of us into delusions of certainty, into mass, collective hallucinations, into the megalomaniacal arms of a tyrant, or would-be tyrant.

Excerpt from “Vowel” (March 2024):

Vowel

I’m here now can hear him shouting

seething cursing into the phone the

rage of Achilles unleashed on a reticent

priest he will not let go will eat drink

inhale the fever the bile the spasm

twisting his thick body around wrenched

cork uncorked abrupt what is inside raining

out don’t tell me don’t you tell me you

think I don’t see things you think I don’t

know you think I’m a fucking asshole I

know believe me I know I know my

kids would be sitting in that goddamn

school right now if my name didn’t end in a

vowel there it is the secret the mystery the

source I see my small self helpless perplexed

the shock the conflict the clash of

absolutes the unquestioned authority

of my father of the Church the priest

unforgivable and yet he forgave us forgiving

all our sins now I see what I didn’t

then…

Excerpt from “Meeting” (March 2024):

Meeting

If you know for certain what is the purpose of

the universe…then…no degree of coercion is

too great, provided it leads to the goal.

Bertrand Russell

around thirty you debate Jerry Falwell on TV

his face enlarged on the monitor

enormous big as Cyclops smiling courteous

to the camera yet duplicitous he talks

shit to you during the commercial tries

to fluster unnerve you then back live

he claims not to have said what he

did beats you in battle belittles you

foolish a nobody looking through

notes trying to cite his lies his

deceit Falwell sees but a sole

possibility the certainty of war

the dictate of the divine Armageddon

his joy tomorrow already written

knowable inevitable the way forward

indisputable the inerrant command of

the Bible all we can do is walk willingly

or unwillingly down the path history

reduced to this the power to predict

preempts all discussion all

argument disagreement now disloyalty

skepticism subversion fanaticism

infects the Oval Office then as it

will decades later…

Excerpt from “Fear” (March 2024):

Fear

…the cashier’s fingertips still wince from my hand

as if it would singe hers—well, yes, je suis un singe…

Derek Walcott

Aristotle classified all barbarians

slaves by nature naturally in their

interest subjected to their betters

making better judgments on their

behalf other thinkers thought this

contrary to nature yet ubiquitous

unavoidable universally acceptable still

others thought slavery immaterial

all that truly matters is the status of the

soul no ancient thinker declared it pure

evil a young man you begin in radio a

station where what isolates divides us

ethnicity race orientation gender

doesn’t matter at least this is

the premise you feel its presence

infectious wondrous you ask the producer of

poetry day if you can help she makes you co-

producer on the spot you don’t know then with

Pepsi you’re either equal or enemy there’s

no middle ground you also don’t know

she’s feared by almost everyone who isn’t

Black producers engineers volunteers

committee members hosts the director

you sense in her oddly familiar presence

friends you met in the forest skinny

dippers vegetarians acidheads admirers

of Khalil Gibran flowing dresses bright

headscarves heady incense in master

control you don’t see she fears the

fear she triggers in others is obvious

bigotry soon strangely then you’re the

liaison between Pepsi and the director

the committee…

Excerpt from “Impenetrable” (February 2024):

Impenetrable

in 1989 you walk the main road to

Tiananmen when the inexplicable

hits an impossible current pushes

jolts nearly folds you over you can’t

take another step paralyzed hands 

on knees almost unable to breathe an

invisible storm spectral wind drives you

back you stumble sit down never reach

Tiananmen months later hours after the

slaughter in the Square a lone man stares

down a tank…