Friday, September 21, 2018

Canaries in a Coal Mine

Gran Canary, 2011

I sit on a boulder that harbours a pregnant explosion;
unpredictable and total in its perennial extinctive catharsis;
and listen for a seismic whisper in this calm basaltine night.

I lie on a volcanic sheath;
separating me from the magmatic plumage of mantle convection;
and wonder if the grasses of the world will tonight forever conceal their blades.

I look up at a billion burning suns;
here, squinting specks of sugar in the obsidian void;
and ask the void my conflagrant questions about our inexorable tectonic fate.

Fire above me.
Fire below me.
Cold in the wind's midnight breath.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

ETERNITY

struggling against entropy
struggling against the end
the salience of death
a surge in surgery
you can't fight decay
new generations tell ancient tales of elixirs and snake oil
superhero prisoners

let the snow queen in
everything south of horizon screams the end of days
opaque with lack of sustainability
carrier bag tummbleweeds skirt across reticent tarmac
coal and concrete frame and fuel all we have become
we close the walls in on ourselves
like a child
hide in the shade, cower from mutagenic light
lest reality be seen

eat your silicon wafers
lifeless buds whisper in your ear
the little plastic voices in your head
the little shards in all our hearts
surrounded by mirrors
that make even the loveliest landscapes look like boiled spinach
as we sing our self conscious dirge
the devil chases us with his magnifying glass
hold it high, high
high as heaven
so that god herself may recoil


whereeesa? that's weird. thought i lost the "original" draft of this on the computer, immediately tried to re-write it with what was still in my head, but just now weeks later, i must have dragged the original into a different folder (pet peeve! why not have a pop-up reminder when doing that under a particular transition rate). anyway, interesting to compare the two


snow queen

in this expanse, where every object south of
the horizon screams the coming end,
degenerate in its lack of sustainability,
the opaque decadence is clear as mud.

post-modern tumbleweeds, skating across reticent tarmac.

a surge in surgery, struggling against entropy,
struggling against mortality, against the salience of death.

a new generation tells an old tale of elixirs and snake oil,
renewing immortal fables.
we bring the walls in on us.
the endless plugs and the little plastic voices in our heads
lifeless buds and parasitic wires.

the life of shade and surrounding black mirrors,
that make even the loveliest landscapes look like boiled spinach
in our hearts the microscopic shards
estranged silicon wafers through which we act
for shame, for shame
as we sing our self-conscious dirge
an ambient throbbing moan, devoid of words
the devil chases us with his looking glass
hold it high, high
until even god recoils

folding bags

choking on smoke and airborn grease
carbon monoxide clinging to my cluttered oesophagus
spine of rope
ribs like a spring
i am an accordion
a book of wafers
wood and diseased glue
dead fabric unweaving
flakes of unplanned origami
the slow scrunch
the yellow sheets
wrinkle
a brief moment of pleasure as i open a tin of beer
anticipating the characteristic metalic squelch
the reassuring inevitability of seals being broken
if you look hard you can watch the pulse
dissapear
minor chords on wire fibres
i conduct my orchestra of coat hangers
the loose grip rippling strings
the croak made by rubbing against ribbed metal
shells from beaches as fingertips
getting smaller
sandpaper smooth

Conch Republic

In 1982, the United States Border Patrol set up a roadblock and inspection points just north of the merger of Monroe County Road 905A and Miami-Dade County Road 905A in front of the Last Chance Saloon just south of Florida City. They are the only two roads connecting the Florida Keys with the mainland. Vehicles were stopped and searched for narcotics and illegal immigrants. The Key West City Council complained repeatedly about the inconvenience for travelers to and from Key West, claiming that it hurt the Keys' important tourism industry. Eastern Air Lines, which had a hub at Miami International Airport, saw a window of opportunity when the roadblocks were established. Eastern became the only airline to establish jet service to Key West International Airport, counting on travelers from Key West to Miami preferring to fly rather than to wait for police to search their vehicles.

When the City Council's complaints went unanswered by the federal government and attempts to get an injunction against the roadblock failed in court, as a form of protest Mayor Dennis Wardlow and the Council declared Key West's independence on April 23, 1982. In the eyes of the Council, since the federal government had set up the equivalent of a border station as if they were a foreign nation, they might as well become one. As many of the local citizens were referred to as Conchs, the nation took the name of the Conch Republic.

As part of the protest, Mayor Wardlow was proclaimed Prime Minister of the Republic, which immediately declared war against the U.S. (symbolically breaking a loaf of stale Cuban bread over the head of a man dressed in a naval uniform), quickly surrendered after one minute (to the man in the uniform), and applied for one billion dollars in foreign aid.

Conch Republic officials were invited to the Summit of the Americas in Miami in 1994, and Conch representatives were officially invited to 1995's Florida Jubilee. The mock secession and the events surrounding it generated great publicity for the Keys' plight — the roadblock and inspection station were removed soon afterward. It also resulted in the creation of a new avenue of tourism for the Keys.

On September 20, 1995, it was reported that the 478th Civil Affairs Battalion of the United States Army Reserve was to conduct a training exercise simulating an invasion of a foreign island. They were to land on Key West and conduct affairs as if the islanders were foreign. However, no one from the 478th notified Conch officials of the exercise. Seeing another chance at publicity, Wardlow and the forces behind the 1982 Conch Republic secession mobilized the island for a full-scale war (in the Conch Republic, this involved firing water cannons from fireboats and hitting people with stale Cuban bread), and protested to the Department of Defense for arranging this exercise without consulting the City of Key West. The leaders of the 478th issued an apology the next day, saying they "in no way meant to challenge or impugn the sovereignty of the Conch Republic", and submitted to a surrender ceremony on September 22.

During the federal government shutdown of 1995 and 1996, as a protest, the Republic sent a flotilla of Conch Navy, civilian and fire department boats to Fort Jefferson, located in Dry Tortugas National Park, to reopen it. The action was dubbed a "full scale invasion" by the Conch Republic. Inspired by efforts of the Smithsonian Institution to keep its museums open by private donations, local residents had raised private money to keep the park running (a closed park would damage the tourist-dependent local economy), but could find no one to accept the money and reopen the park. When officials attempted to enter the monument, they were cited. When the citation was contested in court the following year, the resultant case, The United States of America v. Peter Anderson, was quickly dropped.

The Conch Republic actively maintains an Army, Navy, and Air Force whose primary duties are to help re-enact the Great Sea Battle of 1982 and the retaking of Ft. Jefferson. The Navy comprises no fewer than 10 civilian boats and the schooner Wolf under the command of RAdm. Finbar Gittelman. The Army consists of the 1st Conch Artillery, garrisoned in Ft. Taylor. Shortly after the September 11, 2001 attacks, FBI investigators thought that hijacker Mohamed Atta had possibly purchased a Conch Republic passport from the website.