My deceased paesano poet, Tony Piccione
Counsels you to pray hard for what you are about to receive—
This Poet in five five-line stanzas
At the quiet break of each day
With knees too old to kneel, prays planted on his posterior.
Does this posture make his prayer inferior?—
Not if he confines his ruminations to
The declining mental health and wealth of this nation—
How do we reduce societal inflammation?
Must we first treat the Empire’s creative constipation?
A diet of figs, flax and prunes is indicated
Or its soul-side equivalent bent which would be to
Learn the arts and double the madness**
Piccione wants me to take up my grief
Gather with others, go on. To which I would comply
But, the NY Times is selling a Nazi goosestep
Pull on your hobnail boots and fall in line—
Sy Hersh, one of our greatest investigative reporters
Who had a byline in The New Yorker
Is now made to disappear with his bad-news.
Biden, with Norway’s help took out the Nord Stream Pipeline
But, Hush! Hush! We wouldn’t want U.S. or German
Citizens to hear what terrorist catastrophes
Their Empiric Masters are engineering—
Seymour, be gone with your troublesome truths.
2/16/2023
*Title and poetic quotations from Anthony Piccione in “Local Writer” and “Watching the Evening News” pages 30 & 32 in “The Guests at the Gate,” BOA Editions Ltd. Rochester, NY 2002.
** Robert Bly from “Listening,” pg. 91 “The Night Abraham Called to the Stars.”