SUSQUEHANNA 2

SUSQUEHANNA 2

there are ghosts
in your country
I saw them dancing
in the mist all
along the Susquehanna
one cold January morning
just after 9/11
a couple of miles upstream
from Three Mile Island

and we were talking Civil War mlilitary,
myself and this kindly
African American
Professor of Sociology from
Harrisburg Penn State

him detailing how the Federals and Confederates
were criss-
crossing this territory
playing this cat and
mouse game
only to crash headlong into
each other at a
place called Gettysburg

of course neither of us
back in 2002 could have imagined
twenty so years on this
land would
find itself of the brink of
such a division
where the spectre of such
horror looming again

and those precious
twenty or so days
my sole experience
of America

of breathing the air of
its liberty, if
such is your belief

something the ghosts
trying to tell me, their
cold touch
    alerting  me

a new world and
forever graveyard

tension
in the spirit world
it seems far-fetched to bridge

the river
      with its
       Native American name

flowing with the forever
waters of such secrets

leaving
    the old lies, the old lies
to spread, make
good trade,
do good business

what ripples outward here I fear
ultimately chain
       in its reaction

BIDEN

BIDEN

Last night I dreamt
I was at Kubrick’s
Overlook Hotel

arguing over
who had prior
right to a suite
with your venerable
President, Joe Biden.

Eventually, after much
negotiation, offer
and counter-offer,
we decided to share
for iut was my dream,
my homeground,
I held the moral
highground and he
had his
military-industrial complex
and Israel lobby
to push his case

eventually we
amicably settled
upon equitable time-
share
or splitting the suite
exactly down the middle

with respect for
each other’s human rights,
legal interest and sense
of constitutional democracy

conscious
that conflict nakes no sense
when time edging us
both
   out of the historical frame

death, electoral defeat or
both (for our sins and
wrongly
   lived life)  looming
huge on our respective horizons

which, in his case,
would give me much
     Schadenfreude

see him
swept away divinely defeated
in dubious rapture

me in the Gold Room sipping
some extravagant concoction
mixed by
     some ghost barman
who kmows his stuff

him and me
chatting about the hotel
as a metaphor for history
and what it means
to come
  to consciousnesz in
Kubrick’s mind

make your way
into such a deep, multilayered film