Against It.

On a whim I recently pulled out Forty Poems Touching On Recent American History, edited by Robert Bly and originally published in 1970. One poem by Robert Creeley struck me as even more relevant today, for these dark stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid times. I wasn't sure if I was going to post the poem, and then I attended a walkthrough with Karen Finley for her show at Alexander Gray Associates on Saturday. I saw even more connections in regards to the way we've fallen asleep at the wheel with a weighted foot taped to the pedal.

The book came out in 1970, but here we are again only this time even moreso. This is standard fallout from not dealing with your shit, as an individual or as a nation. We disconnect. We drive on. Here's the Creeley poem:

I KNOW A MAN
As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking -- John, I

sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what

can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not buy a goddamn big car,

drive, he sd, for
christ's sake, look
where yr going.