A Panic That Can Still Come Upon Me
.
If today and today I am calling aloud
If I break into pieces of glitter on asphalt
bits of sun, the din
if tires whine on wet pavement
everything humming
If we find we are still in motion
and have arrived in Zeno’s thought, like
if sunshine hits marble and the sea lights up
we might know we were loved, are loved
if flames and harvest, the enchanted plain
If our wishes are met with dirt
and thyme, thistle, oil,
heirloom, and basil
or the end result is worry, chaos
and if “I should know better”
If our loves are anointed with missiles
Apache fire, Tomahawks
did we follow the tablets the pilgrims suggested
If we ask that every song touch its origin
just once and the years engulfed
If problems of identity confound sages,
derelict philosophers, administrators
who can say I am found
if this time you, all of it, this time now
If nothing save Saturdays at the metro and
if rain falls sidelong in the platz
doorways, onto mansard roofs
If enumerations of the fall
and if falling, cities rocked
with gas fires at dawn
Can you rescind the ghost’s double nakedness
hungry and waning
if children, soldiers, children
taken down in schools
if burning fuel
Who can’t say they have seen this
and can we sing this
if in the auroras’ reflecting the sea,
gauze touching the breast
Too bad for you, beautiful singer
unadorned by laurel
child of thunder and scapegoat alike
If the crowd in the mind becoming
crowded in street and villages, and trains
run next to the freeway
If exit is merely a sign
.
by Peter Gizzi
from The Outernationale © 2007