I dare not sleep-in today, even though it is Monday and I am retired…

Retired!? Ha! So what? I am still a human being among my own kind,…

I live in a small town, Batavia. Batavia belongs to the State of Illinois, which is in the midsection of the U.S. of A. I cannot dis-engage myself from these places or from this time. But here is a brute fact. Turn this gristle over in your gut!

The descendants, the great grandchildren of my ancestors who slaughtered men, women, and children at Wounded Knee, now occupy the White House. Maybe you barely remember the story of Wounded Knee, the massacre? Wounded Knee is on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota.

Returning to my point, bands of thugs, under Federal authorization, now set upon our major population centers, Los Angeles, Chicago, Portland, Minneapolis, to disrupt, to kidnap, to expel with no process of law those they deem “illegal.” At present there is no higher court, no authority of appeal.

On January 7th Renee Nicole Good was murdered by a ICE officer. Renee died by three shots to  her head. That was five days ago. I am still shaking internally. Is murder and desecration of streets, of schools and of businesses what we have to look forward to in the months, maybe years to come? I do not know.

I think this is what the Lakota who once lived at Wounded Knee anticipated from uniformed, armed strangers, — and what they ultimately got.

I found another poem by Charles Bukowski that captures the darker sense of self and of time that I feel today. Go ahead and read the poem with care, mindful of every word.  People by Charles Bukowski.

People

Look at the people: elbows, knees,
earlobes, crotches, feet,
noses, lips, eyes, all the parts
usually clothed, and they are
engaged
in whatever they usually do
which is hardly ever
delightful,
their psyches stuffed with
used matter and propaganda,
advertising propaganda, religious
propaganda, sexual propaganda,
political propaganda, assorted
propagandas, and they
themselves are
dull and vicious.
they are dull because they have been
made dull and they are
vicious because they are
fearful of losing what they have.

the people are the biggest
horror show on earth,
have been for
centuries.

you could be sitting in a
room with one of them
now
or with many of
them.
or you could be one
of them.

every time the phone
rings or there is a knock on
the door
I’m afraid it will be one of
the disgusting,
spiritually destroyed
useless
babbling
ugly
fawning
hateful
humans.

or worse, on picking up the
phone the voice I hear
might be my
own,
or upon opening the
door
I will see myself
standing there,
a remnant of the
wasted centuries,
smiling a
false smile,
having learned well,
having forgotten
what I am here
for.

What about a song? This tune with the beautiful harmonies, Monday, Monday by The Mamas and the Papas is a lament. Enjoy…