chaos of theory
in the chaos of this moment,
everything looks like tornado winds.
twist and spin, fly and fall;
torn apart, torn down. like buildings
abandoned or a spent subway newspaper
caught in the air stream of the passing train
news too slow never read, rarely noticed in and
among the media maelstrom;
that forms, informs and misinforms. we’re
overwhelmed, as everything seems frantic
and moving fast to what end.
we’re familiar with a certain chaos, though
we may use words like hectic and demanding.
this day’s chaos is out of context.
we’ve become consumers, and rumours.
ruled by the omni-chaotic, guilt-inspiring
shelves of choices and channels.
the new and improved
shampoos, computers, credit cards and cereals.
at this moment, we all look disheveled
caught with our gloves down and another
haymaker’s on the way. until we
climb out of the ring, wipe at our
bruised faces and cut the face-
book tightly-knotted umbilical cord.
to find a quiet place where we can live
with our disquiet, our unease for a simple
moment and leave them behind.
i look for reason or reality in this chaos
of a million pebbles in a million ponds
that ripple the water,
and gather momentum.
and i find none, the sense of change
is a wave that has breached the dyke.
a wildfire that has jumped the break.
and people are no longer hidden
in trenches, entrenched in the belief
that their voice is out of tune,
that their power is only in their
wallets, that shrink each day,
that they are just consumers, taxpayers,
not citizens or people with
values, of value, with
rights and wrongs, with
a place that they need to repopulate.
i have removed the barricade of
reason and reality
from my equations and calculations.
and i don’t mind the chaos.
it leaves in its wake fragments
of ideas, thoughts, alternatives
that we can pick up later.
think about. understand that
hope doesn’t break like bamboo
and potential is not lost
but a spring wound up
ready to be released.
no i don’t mind this chaotic moment
i just would like a hill
to sit on, to watch