it's
been about fifty years since consciously
giving
up sloganeering as ideology
(as best i could)
as a means to an end
which
never rang true with my union brothers & sisters
obvious
during the many ganja lunchtimes
in
the parking lot
from
those who actually looked beyond
the
putrid haze
in
the cusp
of
rustbelt deindustrialization
it
was more like up against the wall motherfucker
you're
not telling me anything
we haven't already lived
so
it all gathered like a restless storm
antsy
to
get out
anxious
to get off those stranded overhead crane runways
of
neville island
find
a new way and a new place
electrician
tools and good wits
far
far to the north
beyond
the wrecking ball renaissance
where
corrupted minds
(my
own included)
dodging
those aiming to break your spirit & body
so
with each north woods winter
frozen
death before renewal
when
you see the northern lights
when
you hear the loneliest of howls
kiss
the night as your lover
raise
an open hand
---
e b bortz
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