Shifting Sands

With the most sincere effort I'm able to muster, I fail to understand how socialism could be construed as anything but a common benefit. At face value, it means nothing more than taking the necessary steps to support one's society, ensuring the well-being of each and every one of
its constituents. It's a holistic approach that takes into account both the needs of those who are able to provide for themselves- without diminishing their ability to succeed financially, and those who are unable to provide for themselves, and therefore require assistance.
The problem is, we have been duped by the "American dream"; the promises of a mansion with rolling green hills, a seven figure bank account and garage filled with elite status symbol cars has kept us salivating over a reality few of us will ever see. In fact, we are so invested in the idea that we will one day be wealthy, that we preemptively guard our theoretical future wealth from any potential threat (such as taxes,) at our own expense. We fail to understand that by voting for or supporting the plutocracy (read: “G.O.P."), we are actually ensuring that we'll NEVER find ourselves with any more wealth than we presently have, and in fact are likely to lose even more.
Part of the problem is this proclivity to divide everything into "us" vs. "them". Society is a body, complete with interdependent systems. When there is an infection in one part, without proper care, it will eventually spread, ultimately causing catastrophic systemic failure. Our current society is infected, and thus far bereft of proper care.
In the last century, we were the most upwardly mobile society on the globe. Our diversified economy, built on domestic manufacturing jobs and a strong balance of import and export industry provided such a surplus of well paying jobs that we had the largest middle class in the
world and no debt to speak of. In fact, at the end of Bill Clinton's presidency, we were firmly "in the black".
Flash forward a decade: our mobility trails behind England, China, and even India. Our middle class has all but disappeared, and we are three trillion dollars in debt. Our leaders tell us that each corporate tax break, every industrial deregulation and social program cut is a necessary “shared sacrifice”we must bear, if we are ever to climb out of our current morass. In
fact, it's exactly this mindset that has gotten us here, and- make no mistake, will keep us here.
Unless we change our collective paradigm by recognizing that we are an interdependent system wherein each and every part is absolutely integral, (yes, even a competitive economy,) we will continue to fail. The social body will sicken and ultimately die. We will lose every social support we've come to rely upon; medical care that needn't be paid out of pocket at time of service, public education, even police, fire and emergency, will become things of the past.
Until we rectify our ways with drastic measures such as (a), insisting on a progressive tax for all (b), encouraging corporations to bring manufacturing jobs stateside again by offering incentives to do so and enforcing penalties for refusal, and (c) supporting the regrowth of our middle class by any and all means necessary, this decaying body will crumble from the inside, until, even the ivory towers that are occupied by the plutocrats themselves will crumble and fall,

built as they are,
upon this foundation of
violently shifting sand.

3/13/11

Out back, behind our building is a courtyard. There are trellises- painted green, wooden planters, and a few plastic chairs. All this is set on a vast (for Manhattan,) concrete rectangle, with a shuffleball court at one end.
Our last superintendent, Maxwell, took joy in keeping it up. Throughout his years of service, the trellises were covered in vines, the planters overflowing with green in Summer, and tulips in early Spring, and the concrete slabs of the yard itself swept daily. Even the iron furniture was painted each May. Since however, he was retired several years ago, his successor, who does not share Maxwell’s passion, has not kept it up, and entropy and weather have gotten the better of things.
When, while in the city I wish to meditate outside, I set my cushion down at the most derelict end of the courtyard. There’s a rough wall there— a scar left when a public school was torn down in 1967, to build the apartment building I live in, and a low ledge to lean my back against.


Cigarette butts left
in potted plant: small reverence
for growing things.

3/1/11

Sitting beneath an old oak tree
Fifth Avenue, One-Hundred-First Street
Winter's almost over
The park is showing signs of rebirth
Readers on benches
Joggers on paths
Shoots amidst the
hillside scrub
I'm eating my breakfast—
peanuts mixed with raisins
You're across the street,
upstairs, on a table
with an IV in your arm
Counting this, you'll have had
nine surgeries
over the past three years
I'd say it averages out to
three per year, but it
hasn't been that neat
We spent last Summer
together at Cornell-Presbyterian
It was your heart then
now it's your left eye
Shivering in the cold, I
stand to zip my coat

A siren shatters
the quiet; I wait for news
on a sun warmed bench