Nihil Obstat, meaning, to be published without hindrance, is from the anthology, Complaining to the Clock, a work in progress.
Nihil Obstat What is this wave of floating currents, Which enter the dark side streets Like far-reaching rubbery tentacles? It is your resigned reach for something Infinitely beyond the staid and the shrill; Your grasping of one moment in flexing time, Your attempt to save a universe out of whack, By donning your costume made of plastic fire, With flashing sun medals signifying eminence. What is this jaundiced atmosphere I inwardly sense Within skinned temples made of bitter cortex, Here in the bulrushes, wearing a feathered cap? It is the silent pulse of a forest lacking an audible voice, A meadow with green eyes that scratch the skies, Looking to erode for all-time the blindness of hate.
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