Thursday, June 11, 2015
Some of us just wanted to drop out, go far away
from integrity’s demands. Others sought strange
consultations with their almost vanished selves.
And the brave, they would meet somewhere
in zero weather to subvert the drift of the land.
It was a time to link arms, or cross the boarder.
And who were you, and who was I?
Such questions seemed like a lifelong job.
We put the world on notice, and world
hardly noticed. When we occupied the offices
of people who just wanted to do their jobs
and go home, we thought we’d done something
historical, bold. We desired to be as compelling
as Belmondo with a cigarette. Monica Vitti
looking just so. But always the familiar banalities
would return—-an existential day followed
by a comfortable night, the rhapsodies
of achievement, then a great smalling down.
No one could be sure what was true. In time
we become people we only occasionally knew