This Year In Paradise
It won’t have an impact on changing visitor patterns.
But, you know, it’s shameful that people would try
to scare visitors when they show up,
travelling hours to get to what we call paradise.
—— Jeb Bush, commenting on Florida’s new
shoot if you feel threatened self-defence law
and the campaign against it.
This year in paradise, the angels carry Uzi’s
and on the beach, the bikinis and thongs
are bullet proof.
The policy is neither left nor right,
just straight ahead without any thought
that deviations are possible.
Become compressed into the army of one
defending the nation of one
against all change in a changing world.
In Venice, St. Mark’s Square is again flooding,
just like New Orleans. And Pakistan wonders
if the world will ever stop rattling.
We began as nomads long before the towers,
cathedrals, bridges spanning heaven—
long before there was too much to carry.
When there was only grass and the breath
from a thousand glacier tongues
scolding us on our endless journey.
We began as nomads long before the gravity
of our potential and dreams buried us
in our places as though we are deep-rooted trees.
This year in our image of paradise, the angels carry Uzi’s
and when we drive, we imagine that the road belongs
to the last man standing.
And don’t remember that in every nomadic tribe,
some are always left behind.