The Two Trees

I took just a few bites of it–
a few chapters–
and already I knew too much,
more than I can handle now.
To know the truth
if it is the truth
(for who can you believe?)
To know that terrible truth,
to hear the dark pinochet ricochet
even now
thirty years later–
that the so-called chicago boys
put those chile storm troopers up to it?
This knowledge is to terrible for me,
if it is knowledge,
And that sinister suharto shock
heard round the world
Am I supposed to feel
like responsible for this mess?
like I can do somethin about it?
Am I supposed to go out
and clean up all that shit
thats going down?
still going down?
Take up the jacobin club?
–start down that lenin road
that leads to the stalin road
the mao path–
cultural revolution, because of classified wikileaks
because of class-war hijinks
what kinda revolution do they have in mind
when the mob turns impatient
starts to turn
to occupy what? the human condition!
a fruit stand in Tunis?
a flaming vision of hell on utube.
There’s no end to that burning.

A plague upon your houses!
There must be a better way
than pissin in the ocean
or in the park.
There must be a better way
than jerkin’ cia strings
and coup d’etat blings.

I can eat no more from this tree now.

I just need to find something else
because all my yankee hope
was sunk into that american dream
and if that dream of hard work bootstraps and get ahead of the game
turns nightmare behind the ugly scenes
with shock doctrine and torture,
i just cant…

I know now why the other tree
Its not too late for the other tree
the one that brings life
not guilt.
I’m not responsible for this stuff.

Come out of it my people.
Because of what Jesus did
I will eat from the other tree.
That’s a better choice than Abraham had,
and sure the hell better than Mohamet
or Mao.
That’s my story and I’m stickin to it.
Merry Christmas from the Garden,
Gethsemane, that is.

CR, with new novel, Smoke, in progress

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