HAVING GOTTEN most of the four-hundred-plus poems organized that I already had (in some form) on my computer, it has come to the time when I get into the ones lying about the place on scraps of paper. Another couple hundred, I would guess, with the bulk of them coming from the years 2000 to 2003. And at least some of them rather poor, it seems, from first glance through the stack.
So there will be rewriting, most certainly. A job for those dismal winter days. Here's a little one I've gussied up for presentation:
I hammered myself
a square peg, snug
in your round hole.
We seemed to fit
together so well
unless one looked
closely and saw
I was broken.
Stephen Brooke ©2003
Roughly metered -- I'm not sure if it was meant to be when originally written! Like a great deal of the stuff from that time, it's depressingly lost-love-ish.
* * *
So, yesterday was largely a disappointment to all the liberal folks out there. But not a particularly unexpected one. Now we most likely can look forward to a couple years of grid-lock.
I'm not surprised that people are fed up. Too bad they can't figure out just what they're fed up with. The Tea Party followers are, perhaps, not really all that different from those like me who gave up on the Republicrats and went to the Green Party. Same frustrations, different solutions.
Maybe this is a good opportunity to get some of them to go Green, eh?
Anyway, those who have followed my writing here at all would know I'm very much an economic determinist and don't think the vagaries of politics have much to do with the flow of history. They're the eddies in the river.