Thursday, December 30, 2010



A homeless population equivalent to the size of Los Angeles is
unacceptable, and with over five times as many empty houses,  
we have not only a moral obligation but also an economic         
imperative to come up with a creative way to fix this travesty.
                                                  Richard “Skip” Bronson
                                                  The Huffington Post, August 25, 2010

Living in Zimbabwe once,
I read in the paper that the Reserve Bank
had run out of currency in the capital of Harare.
No one could withdraw funds because the bank
had no bills. This went on for days until the government
had the Munich company under contract print more,
which was actually just one small step toward what eventually drove
the economy into absolute ruins so that by July 2008
the official inflation rate was reported to be 2.2 million percent.

“What?” I asked myself at the time.
How does the bank of a country's capital simply run out of currency?
How can you just print more legal tender? 
Given the situation, I thought that handing out herds of mombe
might have momentarily eased the plight—
cows remain a highly valued commodity in Shona culture . . .

                     yeah, I was waxing with disdain at the time
                     but it got me thinking. And now I think we should all return
                     to more of a barter system because banks and their lending and
                     their paper money are a farce. When bungled and corrupt,
                     the true circus of modern economics comes to town
                     with all its shabby tricks. Everyone just ends up
                     stuck in their seats holding greasy bags of popcorn—
                     to lengthen the metaphor—listening to the stout man
                     with the bullhorn direct our interests
                     because we are not in charge of our own show.

Zimbabwe has now completely abandoned
its dollar in favor of foreign currency, but I’m not really talking
about Zimbabwe in this poem. The underlying travesty
of money controls the world, just in varying degrees
of transparency—and, like chained bears ambling
on two legs for our trainers we are all part of the awful act.

Time to shut-down the lousy spectacle, but leave the tents up
                                                               for those in need of shelter.

Monday, December 20, 2010


These short poems were written in the span of a few hours while staring at a gorgeous full moon one September in Maine not too long ago . . .
Posted in celebration of our Winter Solstice full moon and eclipse. I remember watching a full lunar eclipse one winter in Taos, New Mexico . . . it was very cold outside, snow all around. but I was able to lie on the end of my bed in the little adobe casita and watch the moon get swallowed and then reappear . . . magical.

                                    five variations


In the absence of my lover,
I invite the moon to bed.
She comes, trailing her shimmering skirt
through the bay.  Our first kiss
illuminates the sky—
the love of night awakes.


No sleep for me tonight, I'm making love with the moon!

We're crazy about each other can't you see?

Our bodies fill the night with an exquisite delight.


Full moon I love you!
You fill my face with gentle light
like a lover's kiss: receptive and full.

Full moon I love you!
You fill my heart with mystery
like a lover unveiling: each time vulnerable and new.

Full moon I love you!
You fill my soul with a balanced sight
like a lover leading me: oh dark hours of life…


I want to be
vulnerable with you,
but vulnerable like
this full moon is with the night—
utterly opening herself
with amorous light.


I am always a being of divine light

            (even in the darkest hours)

like this full moon shining over me
            (and in me)

guiding precious night.