All the ways we are broken
All the ways we are broken stun me. I trust them all;
I trust none of them. It’s miraculous we move through
days, tangles of loss and wounds.
All the ways we are broken stun me. I trust them all;
I trust none of them. It’s miraculous we move through
days, tangles of loss and wounds.
we have been released into nothing morethan mere ritualshorter days warmer monthsnew discoveries year after year this truth starts firing
for fear of trial, we lose the fightlord drag us back to the gutterwhere all things weak break free—
.beaver moons, pink moons
arching near and away
,perennial reminders that for me
we are merely who we were
years back,
bargaining time into train tables
amnesia of interrogation
amnesia of incommensurate cant
amnesia of commandeering enough space
to bring the sleeves in and collar the hem
imagine but do not pretend
these brimful automatons all mouth
these dismal prodigies
represent the sole order we’ve ever known
The difference is that the sacrificial man continues to do so indefinitely, continually postponing his own ill-defined moment of sacrifice. In reality, like Oedipus he avoids any situation which may call for it. The sacrificial man only agrees that at some point in the future his life may need to be forfeited. The sacrificial man is at heart a coward.
rage doesn’t need surprise. It grabbed at me anyway, filling itself and growing fat within me. Was I mad for all the people who were hurt by him, or was I mad just for myself?
As usual, the profit-driven concerns of big business and their result—a remarkably selective historical amnesia—fuel the silence about alternative anti-inflation policies. So too do the right-wing ideological blinders that now constrict U.S. politics. Yet, policy alternatives always exist, no matter how desperately partisans promoting one policy seek to obliterate debate and discussion of others. The narrow dogmatism of U.S. politics these days is on full display around the issue of an anti-inflation policy focused on raising interest rates.