recovering notes from the deep, part 8

key west

a drifter's lament

might just be
what keeps you
going to the end
with the road
its own global positioning
without ones & zeros
the sun rises on the same
encampment
the census missed
if you're looking for
safety from the elements
keep your eyes wide
to scarcity
a plastic garbage bag
is a windbreaker

the new normal

doesn't bother
with excuses
your bootstraps
were never meant
for sharing
they say

and anyways

we need to be listening
to the tourists
who aren't motivated
by anything taking
more than a new york
or montreal minute
how fast can you say
instant hedonism

the hotels are busy

eating the beaches
resistance
is all that's left
this sand
can grow up & become
a barricade

there's no such thing

as culture shock
maybe only conscience shock
we all come out
of the same soup
there is no justice
or burial monument
deep or true enough
to comfort hundreds
of african bodies
dying
in key west in 1860

every sunset celebration

needs a moral compass
let the cruise ships
drop anchor
on the potomac river
in time for the coronation

i plead guilty

to stretching these words out
no one ever asked me
for credentials
so i look to the road and gestures
     and try to listen closely
     to your language

--- e b bortz