Mississippi Burned

Forty years later, justice served.

some haikus from '99 or '00

1.
generations know
survival means: dry season
sweats blood young and old

2.
still pond mirrors moon
footpath marked by lantern ligh
i hold you hold me

3.
why waste mourning for
what was while what should be is
you free to be you

4.
sometimes you just turn
my world west to east, sometimes
i wake up dreaming

5.
we packed memories
tenderly as night fell we
dueted goodbye

6. (for Gil Scott-Heron: 2000)
the pint? it makes it
possible to contemplate
the revolution

untitled (for Dad)

scene: interview of father
setting: patio lit by dusking sun

"who are you?"
"no one told me."

simple dialogue;
improvisational lore.

"how'd you find out?"
"i asked",

the playwright wrote;
the roles reversed.

I had a "first" today-- two, actually: I read "The Wizard of Oz" on my PDA. It takes a little getting used to, but I think I've warmed up to the idea.

The software came bundled with the Palm OS. Nice features, easy to navigate. I like the idea of taking digital notes as I go, especially since I am loath to skribble in books these days, and all the post-it notes I tack in ruin the aesthetic of the original design.

But how much am I willing to pay for the privilege of sitting in my doctor's waiting room, or on the metro, with my gadget? What's the going rate for convenience?

Being back in Cali for the week gives me time to hash it out.

On the subject of Cali, my state rocked me with a 6.4 mag tectonic shift this evening. Dorothy said, "There's no place like home." Trudat.