Poem of the Day: “november 23rd”


november 23rd

were i unable to hear the crunching leaves of late fall
i would still be able to recognize the season with my feet

i am often aware of this part of me,
this sensation beyond or despite
the present times or current culture
something deeper within, older, foundational
the instincts of the inner animal

i like noting these things
the things that this “original” man would be elated by,
and in so doing I am generating a magical cognitive map
of my real world, where I feel at home

for often walking on a weekday in the city
or shopping anytime this close to a holiday
i feel like a foreigner or a fugitive trying to fit in,
and would feel much more comfortable drifting alone
in search of the magical moment
of connection to “the real”

like coming across this wild honey-bee hive
in the crack at the base of a tree in Grome Park
next to the sidewalk along Abriendo Avenue

it is the day before Thanksgiving and yet
it is such a warm day that the bees are active
although I cannot imagine what they hope
to harvest at this time of year

but i shall work on the mystery awhile,
and contemplate their perfect societal structure
here amidst this city of hungry ghosts

they buzz me to consider many things
one being that the alternative to socialism
may just be this desperate form of barbarism
found just outside and surrounding this park

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