984. DENBY

DENBY
And so much has been lost now
then Denby, let us count - all those
falling leaves now brown and brittle
on the ground are being dropped for
drought, or because of lack of water
at least. I want to see nothing wrong
with that, but cannot. Drought
withers, drought dries.
-
Henderson the Rain King - yes, that I
must read again. Perhaps therein some
clue resides : Western man, African natives,
enshrining someone as God, bringing rain
to a parched, dry land. But what does Chicago
know about the coast? Whose useless voice
now bellows on?
-
And, so, much has been lost. We live these days
despite, no less, the action; yet, nonetheless
bankers rage at rates, financiers finagle the
figures, and the reporters, those who say, they
just babble until their fat, salacious tongues fall
out for lack of either truth or water too. Like the
leaves, their dry and brittle tongues abhor
their own tiny moment.
-
I'd never know a thing, were I pressed to say.
My own knowledge is but bluster, a walking
cane down a street where only cars and buses
should go. And so, much has been lost, Denby;
let us count before we go.