An American Eagle Thanksgiving Prayer

the Hopjes bring me back to Linden Boulevard
as sure as scent quickens a stray dog to its pack on the Han
Monitor and Merrimack steam of ancient radiators
filling the old living room warmpth like a hot air balloon
hear Dad's self-assembled Lawrence Electronics amplifier
spinning Peter, Paul & Mary on the Garrad turntable
Auntie Ray fussing near Uncle Joe grinning on the sofa
Thanksgiving in Brooklyn with Hanukkah latkas

my American Eagle family of colleagues
pre-revolutionary brother Pilgrim Darren
fellow bicyclist Agya and Rising Sun David
gluey Nicole and Zoe's reassuring smile
thank the Lord for the children a while
Antonio, mange, falissimo!
as Kenny clicks photos i'll never take home
but it doesn't matter; the films in my head
as sure as Pershing Arms' red hot marble buttocks
on a crisp November night in the Brooklyn tenement
with Bubby's borscht and Pop's frikisee
or the bushiban's noodle communal dinners

thank you for coming and warming our seats
around this Thanksgiving table of sours and sweets
thank you Teddy and Celia for making us able
for joining us at this American Eagle table
to see the bright faces of all the dear children
like you, Johnathan,
we do it for you and your little friends
on a crisp Taichung Hanukkah turkey
may it never end although it sounds jerky
amen to the light in the candles of life
and thank you for Leona, my dear loving wife

11-29-13

From Far Formosa's Warm and Wonderful Winter

each drop of starting rain reminds me
of deluges and dreary days overcast and chilling
tire wheels splashing puddles wave toward street curbs
dammed up corner sewers beige and golden leaves
red autumn exodus of weakened winter trees
blown wicked wind wetting skirts and pants
unprepared boots and inside-out umbrellas

there must be a chill in the air of Thanksgiving
a long parade of sickening Santa pretention
pasted over memories of childhood retention
wasted Halloween jack-o-lanterns
that could have become pies unrotten
and stacked up cars windshields wiping
Hasidic boys hurrying in shower-cap fedoras

angry gray sky of Brooklyn Novembers
only as nice as childhood remembers
adult inconvenience of finding car service
wasting in malls and musty museums
revolving lead library Grand Army Plaza
stayed home and safe from night travel madness
cable disruption at least there is Swiss Miss

trains aren't running past DeKalb again
the lie that's a pity, 'the greatest world city'
outside dark danger of ghostly leftovers
drunkard smashed bottles and whiffs of urine
nothing you've got there you really need
century twenty-one man down-coat plead
only your friends would smoke that weed

the raindrops are vanishing from spotted Han boulders
large graceful egrets take to the wing
palm trees soften the sting winter brings
a stray dog strolling holding head high and wagging
Brooklyn in autumn approaching and sagging
with puny beauty lost in snot and sleeze
from far Formosa's warm and wonderful winter

11-22-13

In Taiwan I'm Uncle Tom

in Taiwan i'm Uncle Tom

and what I preach is true

i've got a hunch you're just a bunch of

"don't tell me what to do."

 

i've seen them linger, wag their fingers

at  mercenaries greed

marching here, trashing there

they won't get what they need

 

they need a job or it will rob them

of their precious lives to

love themselves and find their mates

and children's sweetest spice

 

suffer Moses, can't you see

the heretics are mocking thee

though you've a path and hold a staff

your leadership won't set them free

 

i retreat to being happy

with my lover and my home

but there's a higher love above

that won't leave me alone

 

the peddle-footed sewing Singer

the miracle of light

as slaves went through the Pharoah's ringer

to bring us here tonight

 

your wild-eyed appreciation

your activism cause

will burn you like ghost money

but harmless to your boss

 

hear me not, young anarchists

your work place organize

don't waste your feet on restless streets

when with the union you can thrive

 

11-21-13

 

 

 

In The IWW battle for Taiwanese Workers

In the IWW battle for Taiwanese workers

skirmishes and aversions like a French & Indian War

rarely has there ever been self-management

an occasional murdered owner

thousands of mom and pop collectives

while Mao agreed to let socialists in Taiwan be

never were collective decisions enjoyed by the progs

while warlord Chiang divvied the land to the KMT

then

on orders of American overseers

martial law was lifted

it seemed a chance for workers duly gifted

but top-down remained

the ruling class gained

Bian was imprisoned and there went the vision

to China in deed America flees

keeping the economy under its thumb

workers who’ve suffered these sixteen years

through dead-end jobs

at part-time convenience stores, my son

China through Cooloud’s communist big shots

workers remain downtrodden and defeated

bosses from China and America keep

workers unorganized falling asleep

in the confusion no revolution

the Industrial Worker solution

nowhere to land

where is the path to indigenous hearts?

like Native Americans who took French and English parts

how can they be armed with power to fight

for neither side but the workers' might?

how can they be moved to reach a new level?

how can One Big Union defeat the devil?

like thread through a needle

a seamstress’s seed will

pull the garment together

it will win better

 

11-19-13

moonrise over the eastern foothills

moonrise over the eastern foothills

a landscape with cataract-depleted division

a green mausoleum factory building

up steppes of rice-belly cemetery plots

a bare-footed hobo walking the Han dyke ledge

with a different concept of space

two feet from my face

 

nothing in front looks American

the moon, the boulders, the bleached river bed

even the trees the water Taiwanese

only behind is America heard and seen

the creepy bronze poodles

the motorcycle engine scream

the Mactech company with parking lot employees

the wire fences

with jogging joggers jogging by

 

soon it will be night when cataracts close their eyes

the sky will look clean as all dreams choose to be

the round moon Jackie Gleason saying

"Norton, one of these days..."

as egrets, larks, and sparrows head to their nests

the night behind becomes blinking neon

piercing closed-eyed Taiwanese victims too soon

 

11-17-13

Buhay ka pa naman di ba? (You’re still alive, aren’t you?)

just a spell up the road
from a place you'll never return
is a place you cannot leave
once you have arrived

shining like the midday sun
the brightest just behind
keep on shining through the night
with noon getting closer tomorrow

a job to sweep the path of debris
that is all the supervisor will see
not the styrofoam thrown over the ledge
with a hungry trash can down the way

like a book she forgot she borrowed
one she didn't really care for much
brushed aside but can't be hidden
as it follows her like an albatross

jerk off your shoes, strike the china bank
gather the coins from china fragmants
and drop them into a knotted sack
give that to her, take her away from here

rather lose a book than find you've stolen
like styrofoam debris until the breeze 
blows it into the Han water stream
away with others' fragments of china

11-12-13

light in menorah

as white or black as Joe Christmas in August
as white and blue as a Jew who's never dreamed of Israel
such am i
an outsider with insides out
like a t-shirt label not meant to be seen
or worn on my sleeve to see my value
fickle life and fleeting
rip the labels off

birthday candles may fit in menorah
but they lack the soul of the people
the phoneticized prayer on the cardboard box
the miracle that brought us here
outsiders
but Presbeterian is my cloth
bible black for my creator
heart laced with the tallis of love
only his love
befriends me

11-7-13

long as the river rolls is there to remind us

long as the river rolls is there to remind us
clear your mind of mountains behind us
have respect for the strait ahead

crackling sounds of what burns around
firecrackers, bonfires, guns of the world
subtraction equals addition
eliminate addiction
so long as the river rolls
whether or not we're here to sense it

what's the use of fighting boulders midstream
flow around them and live the dream
boulders can't but by backhoes be moved
industrial de-evolution made nuts of the screwed
what is put on paper is merely water vapor
so long as the river rolls

the future belongs to the youth of nations
rivers roll in every land and language
it babbles all the way home
if we hear what commentators say
but if we listen to what's in our hearts
feel the hunger in our veins
the river's tributaries are powerful trains

be wise and organize yourselves
our problems singulary none repaired
the river carries pollutants away to oceans of distain
and the river always flows
whether we sense it or not, the same

11-2-13