are they coming for us

or do they just wanna put faces

to those they consider the enemy

is there a new fashion trend

or is it just the fascism

of square shoulders and brown shirts

i keep looking for the common denominator

and all i've come up with is just a facsimile

of a hammer and virus rolled into

a labor participation rate

they want to club you with

i know i'm asking for it

but here's my simplistic answer

to all of the ideologues

dead & alive

just mix one part from each

& stir thoroughly

trump-putin-roy cohn-stalin-mao-andrew jackson-jefferson davis

might as well throw in lukashenko

all built on the foundations of franco-hitler-mussolini

don't worry about chronological order

in this new world disorder

and of course

add your many thousands

     their knees and heels

     on your neck

--- e b bortz

before the hurricane

blew it to bits

the island counter top

in the kitchen

let the poems & ants

mingle like a quiet

off-season mosquito coast

no parallels with hemingway

or humphrey bogart key largo

storms and words come & go

it's hard to find a beginning

if you dwell in the endings

plywood is at a premium

as the winds pick up from the south

every body of sweat like the surf

brings you to another precipice

before you drip in unison with the marsh

mangroves bend

trying to hold the roots

like anchors

vultures & turkey vultures

hide until it all blows over

iguana highway     the last resting place

for the stragglers

dead or alive

--- e b bortz

steam escapes a bathroom window

at sunrise

reminiscent of

2 hots & a cot

a few doors down

from the salvation army store

key west

there's red paint

like blood

to prove you were there

the poets left phrases

they no longer wanted

some of them wandering off

to look for the old used bookstore

along truman avenue

everything has changed

and maybe

nothing has really changed

put a mask on

you need to dodge

the border patrol

and the virus

as it burns through

every charlatan

& magic potion

--- e b bortz

school of the americas watch

photos by Sandra L Hazley

november 2006

i've seen poets leave their words

tucked in a cyclone fence

surrounding fort benning georgia

just down the road

from the sniper school

the military police

surge up to the fence line one more time

their eyes looking through you

with an awkward determination

& cold sweat

across the street

there's a neon sign

advertising payday loans

& storage lockers

when your time comes

it's best to travel light

the prisons will once again fill

with hearts & minds

handmade wooden crosses

     remain

to speak the names of the innocent

--- e b bortz

earth note 754

a murder of crows

an early gathering

on patched asphalt

before the road heats up

fast food ain't what it used to be

scattering like a smorgasbord

looking like they're about to leave

most of it for the raccoons

they were saying something like

hold the mayo til the weather cools off

--- e b bortz

earth note 753

my trunk put me down on all-fours

like a boxer reaching an eight-count

i was never really prepared for this

a roundhouse outta nowhere

had me bowing to the green hills

like an atonement

a sight you can't describe

but need to

before they die

it's never too late for deference

once you've tasted

raw earth

--- e b bortz

only a poem can close its eyes

and hit a concrete wall on purpose

call it a wake up or epiphany

if that fits

like i wanna spit

out a long shot

dream up the lines

back from irrelevance

raise the dead if necessary

take that proverbial sledgehammer

& smash the so-called writer's block

before it disappears on its own

(then you're really left with nothing)

let it go into a thousand pieces

without pagination

(no one laid down any rules here)

make it up as you go

--- e b bortz

earth note 752

a heat wave

can test the bounds

of your imagination

you look for an escape

as you swallow hard

on every thought

your skin speaks

a different language

as it turns to sandpaper

when the river finally appears

let it touch your feet

kiss the willows as they're drooping

like a lover

waiting for an answer

pace each step

as a fleeting moment

like a long walk home

--- e b bortz

i dreamed i saw allen ginsberg

in the body of christ

with the blood of christ

sangre de christo

the sand suspending deep into his beard

the southwesterly mexico winds

covering his thick black-rimmed

columbia university eyeglasses

the riverbed running and reaching up to save him

from the virus

from the cruelty

from the silence

only the original people

know these mountains

don't be embarrassed

if you need a guide

the snows have lost their staying power

every crevice takes on a new identity

there are dark sanctuaries

to sing your poems

there are new muses lost and searching

even the word muse may escape

through the void

this is not the lower east side

or golden gate park

to ascend you'll need strong boots and coveralls

steady your hands on the wall of the canyon

this land transitions without notice

when the river flows

     take your turn to drink

--- e b bortz

recovering notes from the deep, part 22

from fifteen on

i went pretty deep into

the catcher in the rye phase

and never really came out of it

that kind of adolescence

that always seems naively innocent

and rebellious

all at the same time

of course it's never a path

that's consciously chosen

you try to be as honest

as the world will let you

but this is where i ended up i think

never looking long range

always looking for the unsaid phrase

mostly undefined emotions that bring a tear

when you leave home young (with youngins)

and then everyone grows up

and you return alone

from what seems like a lifetime later

imagination knows how to trick you

for the years gone when only

a nose to the grindstone

could fill empty pockets

when every road and mirage

leads to a parched underbelly

you thought you could always whimsically rely

on falling back and finding your bearings

growing up absurd

should have been a prerequisite

you know the fields should have been sowed

in sunflowers

--- e b bortz

earth note 751

the air has enough sweat

to form puddles before

it hits the ground

on the green side of the avenue

rubbish has thrown itself

at a catch-all against the hillside

from the cardinal's perch

a song is just a song

nothing has changed since the big bang

when the wind is just right

a river can flow upstream

twist in a whitecap

there are clouds that promise rain

but then there are those

who think they know the future

--- e b bortz

highway one blues, part two

the last hurricane

blew holes in every building

still standing

a cluster here & there

people lining up for a thrift store

that used to be

the wind ripped thru

and uprooted mangrove

like a barbed wire fence line

key deer are still in hiding

seeking out fresh water

from mosquito puddles

when the plague hit

the highway closed

then anxiously reopened too soon

the water's getting too warm to snorkel

i'll check the navigational maps

next time i get to the library

     if it ever opens

--- e b bortz

highway one blues

i wore out the bottom

of my sneakers more than once

before coral rock got into my veins

it's free but you'll still have to pay a price

'cause the sunrise will fool you

into thinking you've reached

the end of the ocean

when in fact maybe you've only reached

the end of time

there's a section of side road

on big pine key that turns to hard rock

can rattle a bicycle frame & your bones

you stop when you've reached the water

the gulf side gets buggy

even in the middle of the afternoon

mangrove has long arms

reaches out

& grabs you like a primeval forest

the bridge to no-name key

can be windy

the pelicans ride it out

between dives

a wing is freedom

you're not sure how

you relate to this world

there's always the road

and the iguanas

but please don't call them invaders

turkey vultures gather

for a morning ritual

the dead have nowhere else to go

back on the highway

the sun at high noon

burns through your hat

--- e b bortz

earth note 750

riverview park

i finally found

the hidden switchback

only the deer know

you can tell how the ground cover stops

hoof width in the middle

of oak and maple

snaking around

steep shoulders

when their time arrives

trees fall and become one

with the earth

their bodies

like grace

their songs

like wind

--- e b bortz

earth note 749

eight days 90+ pittsburgh

when the heat finally broke

a non-contiguous set of city steps

started steaming

alone in the rain

the river looking to join in

trying desperately to pick itself up

& move on downstream

away from the quarantine

the gray flow

of the traffic

--- e b bortz

execution death chamber coronavirus safety checklist

all you witnesses

that wanna verify 100%

     death

better not try sneaking in

if your temp is above 100.4 degrees (F...you)

and put on a clean face mask

like you're going to church

scrub your hands

like you're degreasing an engine block

but try & leave your fingerprints intact

for future referencing

there will be gasps and screams

but it probably won't interrupt

the blank stares

of vengeance

--- e b bortz

reckoning has no middle road

even with all the checkpoints

and pattern recognition video gadgetry

heat rises from the earth

like an ocean swell

     entropy has become a social term

there's a new wildfire just beyond

     the beyond

the gas stations are shutting down

in time for the opening of the stock market

i'm leaving out all the proper nouns and trademarks

     apply them as you wish

the ground is smoldering in depleted fireworks

it will end suddenly

     as it began

--- e b bortz