For All We Know

We become delusional when looking out
We see only for & against
Go on loading up on imaginary needs,
Interfacing solely with like-minds & choirs.
Some of those choruses may acquire pitchforks
As times grow grim, and disinformation
Clogs our airwave arteries.

The incandescent time has gone.
We are on low burner as autumn arrives
Slowly in whiffs & waves
Chasing summer into shadow corners.

Under the media spell we ignore
What we sow by how
We phrase conjectures to confuse
The easily confused. Our failing construct
Multiplies, diseased parts included,
Around the globe. In Shanghai
The glitzy skyline mirrors our
Glittering facades. There is no
“Human face of socialism” there,
On the make and don’t step in
Front of traffic. The left behind

Are in a bind. Here
We enjoy our remaining clear skies
And clouded government.
The soap operas continue
To fog our insight.

“If elections really made a difference,
They would cancel them,” someone once said.

If we do not pick up on this,
Pick something out of the rubble,
Start anew then those chances
Will recede back
Into the chatter that controls.

Published by William Cowan

I'm from the East Coast, have lived in SoCal and now Northern California for some years. I've been writing quite awhile, published in 1992 in a literary quarterly: "Suspicious Humanist," vol. 2, #2, (20 pages.) Best job: fm on air personality on a now defunct station, "Evening Eclectic" music show, and a weekly poetry reading show. I played jazz and free/improv I enjoyed. Read Wallace Stevens, John Ashbery, Kenneth Koch, etc. and commented on the poems. I have read once at a local coffee house. Love the Bay Area, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I am going to appear in an east coast anthology of best new poets of 2010 by the end of the year, published in Pennsylvania. I'm reading once a month at a brewpub in Marin with a group of fellow poets. We read to each other our work, and personal favorite poems of authors we enjoy. It is a pleasure to share with a community of fellow enthusiasts.

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