the blood of the needy, the gardens of the rich

"My God, a moment of bliss. Why, isn't that enough for a whole lifetime?"

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Sacramento Valley, Yolo County farmland, near Davis, CA
Looking west to the Vaca Mts.

A dream. I am watching my own ghost till my father's garden. The tiller is very old, pre-World War II, and my ghost struggles to keep it running. And it isn't my living face I see on this ghost, it is my death face, and so I look more like my father than ever before. Our ghosts could easily be one ghost, as if we were sharing something that should not be shared, as if we were each becoming more like the other. In death I feel like my father, and somehow I do indeed become him. I am the both of us, and in death I struggle in the same goddamn field where we both have struggled in life, working and sweating under the hot Texas sun, only now the sun is also dead. And the field is dead. Death is everywhere, I see that now. Death is in the air we breathe, death is in the water we drink. We have indeed shared that which should not be shared. My ghost raises his hands from the tiller and we all start to fade and disappear. My father, our ghosts, and me. 

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Days of anger and stupidity. It's election time, 

which fool will get your vote? Apostles and criminals 

are running for office. Let's have a war, no, let's don't. 

Let's feed the poor, no, fuck them for being poor. 

There are jails for the poor. 

Let's pour the blood of the needy on the gardens of the rich. 

No, let's run away on what remains of our legs 

to save what remains of our souls. 

Who has the best cocaine? Who has the best heroin? 

Jesus does, the heroin is cheap and the cocaine isn't. 

The christians are selling guns on the street-corner. 

They want your money and your soul. 

They want your vote. 

-----

There are about 200 countries in the world; do people really believe that there is a god who spends time picking out a favorite?

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We are all beings of light and love. 

I cannot explain how I know this, 

but I do. I always have. 

We are all connected on some level, 

down deep, maybe in the DNA, 

maybe in our heartbeat. 

There is just the powerful human heart. 

Our souls are our own, 

and yet are also a part of something else, 

some larger soul perhaps, or the universe, 

or the magic of the starlight. 

Did someone say something to the sun 

to make it burst into flame? 

No. It just did that. 

Did someone have to convince the moon 

to grace the night with beauty? 

Of course not. 

Just to be alive is to be in a state of rapture. 

You can rise up, friend, 

anytime you are ready. 

The entire universe is just waiting for you. 

-for Katy Brown- 

James Lee Jobe 

______________

"The real work of planet-saving will be small, humble, and humbling, and (insofar as it involves love) pleasing and rewarding." 

Wendell Berry 

Sacramento Valley, Yolo County farmland, near Davis, CA
Looking west to the Vaca Mts.

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James