allergic to sociopaths

body as perfect as the wind  

a red-tailed hawk on the hunt  

eyes sharp like razors  

talons sharper  

a flash of rabbit   

a glimpse of a field mouse  

life and death among the wild  

and the free  

james lee jobe

It is better to do nothing than to do what is wrong. For whatever you do, you do to yourself. 

The Dhammapada

I am allergic to many things. Grasses. Trees. Dust. Mold. Sociopaths. I am allergic to cruelty. Heartlessness. Greed. Some of these things make me sneeze, others make me want to vomit. In the news it is clear that America has concentration camps for Latinos without papers. People with their children taken from them, living caged, in some cases, forced to drink from toilets. Today I saw a pick-up truck with a large American flag fluttering from a small pole in the truck bed. That sick feeling returned to my stomach. Again.

james lee jobe

a poem by du fu,  710-770 CE

leaving the city

 

it's frost-bite cold 

and late falling dew muffles 

my gaze into bottomless skies 

smoke trails above the distant salt mines

snow-covered peaks angle shadows 

toward the east

 

even now 

armies haunt my homeland  

and war-drums throb here 

a guest here in this river city tonight 

I return again to shrieking crows 

my old friends

du fu

riprap - a poem by gary snyder

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jlj