I recently have heard
from a people of growing remorse,
Perhaps we should add to Presidential prerequisites
some prior experience in public service.
While this has always been a personal requirement,
I had not thought we would need a legal restriction,
where logical and moral imperatives are so blatantly transparent
and mutually compatible.
If you need heart and brain surgery
and have a list of candidates to choose from,
And you instead choose your dentist
because you are uncertain about those distant names
but you know how your dentist smells and tastes,
then we should be alarmed
if you also propose
to lead our way on health care planning
and Earth climate therapies,
insurance,
assurance,
compassionate reassurance,
especially when early drafts specifically disinvest
of dental care,
and inside
and outside nutritional development
for public as extended family service.
I know how much it means to you
to protect my health and safety.
And, for this purpose,
to stop the terror,
end the ballistic killing
within these disuniting States,
please ban the NRA,
and stop selling guns
to those with histories
of mental illness.
The statistics,
facts,
both real and alternative,
all inform quite clearly,
if you would put this same energy
you have invested
in keeping out
those who would reinvest in,
to helping out
those who already disinvest of our domestic peace
and nonviolence,
then this killing Association already here
might calm down
enough so you could hear
the silence of those seeking
absence of threat and violence.
Thanks so kindly
for your first priority attention
to these matters
of real lives and deaths,
in contrast to those you have imagined.
Where my love goes
your mystery cannot fade.
Yet my curiosity can wilt without your active support,
contagious nourishment,
never-ending flames of wonder
that this love
you could persist with me.
How could we possibly not share our lives,
mutually disinvest of mysteries
that could dampen
more aggressive histories?
Yet without active curiosity
mystery fails hopeless to know more,
even though love’s thirst for internal sufficiency
and self-creation stories
becomes too easily quenched
by cooperative post-climatic adjustments,
aging continental plates
earth-quaking our chronically mutual myths,
and their before logos and after mythos shocks.
Where my love goes
your history could not shade,
yet dark fading curiosity of aging eyes and ears
and minds
can blend these my well-deserved contentment
feeding flame’s remorseless desire
to continue this co-blind mystery
of love’s deep and blissful well-fed curiosity.
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