Alphabet City

Odd, when Putin, an obvious madman,
proclaims Nazis everywhere, we condemn him,
we clearly see the sociopathy

But when the best and the brightest here in the U.S. of A 
proclaim the same, Nazis behind anything, anyone,
with whom they disagree, their respective camps applaud them, 
give them nightly airtime

left and right and center, wake the fuck up

cc: Chagall 2022

When I was young, after she had passed,
I dreamed of her walking along a swinging rope-bridge, 
high above ground in the leafed canopy of larch and linden trees

the bridge twists and turns through the greenery, a system of
paths one hundred feet high, though I cannot see the ground

it goes on and on in sunlight and dappled shade around bends, 
she approaches, she nears, her face clearer with each step,
the clarity of her face grows sharper as the sounds around us, 
wind and birdsong, increase in volume, as does the intensity of 
the buildup of sunlight, until I realize who it is

Eva as a young woman in Bachory, or more precisely, 
an angel of sorts, lit-up as I would imagine 
a resurrected Christ to appear.

to punctuate the moment of recognition, all sound and light become one 
in a startling crescendo that consumes me, disorients me, moves me out of 
my normal frame of reference, where dream meets waking reality

Now it is fifty years later.

Overnite, a winter advisory, snow and ice accumulating 
on the roads, the roofs of the houses

Our skylights are buried in snow,
muffles the sound in the kitchen, disallowing sunlight in, so 
the rooms are much darker.

I make a cup of coffee and sit down to listen to news of the war in Ukraine, 
and continue to research her town on mindat.org, motivated to complete work 
on the family tree before the records are destroyed, gone forever.

I am happy to find her village, Bachory, on a wonderful interactive map of 
the area.  I zoom in to 2000 feet and see the neighboring towns and roads, 
and then, at 100 feet, I am there in the canopies, 
among the larch and linden trees.

At that moment, due to rapidly warming 
mid-morning temperatures, the ice on the skylight 
violently breaks free, creating an incredible noise as it scrapes its way 
down the glass and the roof shingles, moving as an iceberg, grating, 
rushing downward, exposing glaring sunlight where there was deep shadow 
just a moment before.  I am bathed in my senses, unsure of what is happening.

All sound and light become one in a startling crescendo
that consumes me, disorients me, moves me out of 
my normal frame of reference, where waking reality meets a dream

cc: Chagall 2022

Dear Reader,

I point things out simply to illustrate a cognitive dissonance that became
apparent to me watching various networks' news, these past days.

I offer no value judgement, simply my objective observation.

Certain media outlets are asserting correctly that Putin's bid to de-Nazify 
Ukraine is nonsense as its President, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, is himself Jewish.  
There are other reasons why this is nonsense, chief among those being that
Ukraine is simply not a Nazi country.  Full stop, end of sentence.

Yet that same media has no trouble asserting that people of color can be
White Supremacists.

cc: Chagall, Leon Festinger
1957, 2022

cc: Chagall 2022

While Putin is tied up in Ukraine, 
singularly obsessed, horses and elephants will amass
on his borders, from Mongolia to North Korea to Kazakhstan

At that time, the game will turn to Go,
and all of Russia itself will be the spoils, will be Xi's komi

Life and death, 
no mutual life

cc: Chagall, Tsai Ing-wen
2022

cc: Chagall, Walter Becker, Donald Fagen
2022

Everyone is falling
atop the orb within
blue sky, not below

funny how
some descents are
more rapid 

don't be sad, 
just inevitable outcomes 
of common sense

yes - that still exists,
despite all efforts to the contrary
Mary, Mary, quite...

How has your garden grown?
Nary a cockleshell in sight
these days...

Beautiful people all in a row

cc: Chagall 2022

Madam Vice President,

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
      Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
      And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

Sincerely,
Carlos Chagall

cc: L. Carroll, 1871
Please note that translations are unavailable at this time

Mayor Eric Adams of NYC just proclaimed 
the cities of Hoboken and Newark, New Jersey,
as rightful boroughs belonging now to Manhattan,
since the peoples there share the same accent, 
frequent the same pizzerias, and vacation 
on the same beachfronts as native New Yorkers

cc: Chagall, Ed Koch
2022

He does not know, we held on to one
SS-19 Stiletto, and a handful of Molodets,
each signed:

   Dear V.V., With Love, the Adventurers

cc: Chagall, All Kazak Team Leaders
1991, 1994