Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
He, too, saw the promise of a distant light,
but unlike him, he renounced the gold hat,
and unlike her, she did not renounce him.
His parties were simpler, but she was content
with what he could offer: a romantic
readiness, just like his; a gift for hope
for a life together; a capacity
for wonder at the promise of a dream.
Even now he remembered the sad thing
that happened to them -- the deprivation
and the foul dust that floated in their wakes.
But through the smoke he peered into her eyes,
and saw the light there, green as ever,
and knew they’d turn out all right at the end.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
A house is never cleaner
than when unoccupied --
with tables, couches, beds
removed and all inside
accessible to brush,
broom, mop, and vacuum
cleaner.
No resident
had known a cleaner
room.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
Every morning at six-thirty I sit
at that table by the window and drink
my coffee. No, I’m retired. As you see,
I can see that corner, and most days the kids
go there to wait for the bus to take them
to the high school. Usually, it’s two boys
and a girl. No, I don’t know them or their names,
but I’d recognize them. So, they stand there
talking and smoking -- whether cigarettes
or something else I don’t know, but sometimes
they shared it. And I’m thinking the boys shared
the girl too, because one day, one’s kissing her,
the next day, he doesn’t show and she’s kissing
the other. That was yesterday. Then today,
the first boy walks up and bang! bang! -- he shoots
them both, the girl and the boy, point blank
in the head, like Pacino in Scarface. Yes,
I’ll testify. But please catch the little
bastard before he finds out I’m a witness
and pops me too.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
To say “I love you” is equivalent
to saying I breathe air.
Such sustenance
as I derive from oxygen devolves
so liberally, so reflexively upon me,
yet were I deprived of atmosphere,
the words “I breathe” would not avail to fill
my lungs with what they need, nor would the words
“I am a fish” convert my lungs to gills.
Ethereal by nature, not by choice,
I’m bound to love you notwithstanding my voice.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
The benchmark of tyranny
is censorship:
once the use of force
rises above the mark,
then even the censor
must drown in the flood
of silence.
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