I've been writing poems in response to news articles over the past three weeks. I try to put what comes up down as quickly as possible. This one came from an article about Trump’s tank parade, mingled with more news surfacing of the torture happening in the US prison
camps along the Mexican-US border.
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| US Tank Parade |
Cibola Correctional Facility has long been a
stain on New Mexico – the torture of cell-crowding, lack of water, decent food,
and sexual assault has been common for years
(Former Detainees tell NM Legislators about Abuses - June 2018).
Cibola was also the name given to an illusory city of gold the Spanish conquistadores hunted in this area for years.
(Former Detainees tell NM Legislators about Abuses - June 2018).
Cibola was also the name given to an illusory city of gold the Spanish conquistadores hunted in this area for years.
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| Cibola Correctional Facility |
The incredible distance
between the daily illusions created by our gaming-app-infotainment industries
and the realities of our prison system, rampant oligarchic corruption, and systematic torture helps create a dream-like atmosphere. What is real? What is not?
and the realities of our prison system, rampant oligarchic corruption, and systematic torture helps create a dream-like atmosphere. What is real? What is not?
Dreamtime.
When I think of the Trump Administration and those
who support it (both corporations and individuals), I am reminded of Jean
Amery’s thesis about Nazi Germany – that torture was not it’s byproduct, but the goal.
Also see Adam Serwer's Cruelty
is the Point.
Also:
********
Dreamtime, by Screen Light
Cibola
Correctional Facility, the panopticon headlight that
crosses the bedroom curtain all night,
crosses the bedroom curtain all night,
lit blue;
Shadow-figures
at the corner of the eye, beckoning,
threatening, drawing me in,
threatening, drawing me in,
lit blue;
Dust-rise
from a lone truck on a dirt road, seen from the prison-
camp gate,
lit blue;
Waiting
for the bus, mirage of water on the horizon, waving
a transparent
victory flag at the future, the future of
no-water,
lit blue;
No water
in the packed cell, no blankets in the packed cell,
lit blue;
Cibola,
mirage city, city of gold, relief from loneliness, lost
casino of
love, of penis enhancement, of GirlsGirlsGirls,
of endless
tanks rolling past the viewing deck,
lit blue;
Secrets
lie in dust, out in the open, sun-withered, dry-eyed,
lit blue…
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| Soviet Tank Parade |
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