Things to do in New London

At Town Hall
the crowd stood idly by
like deer in headlights
heads down grazing
trusting look-outs
on the perimeter of the docile herd
while, like turkey vultures
the interested parties
pulled apart what was left of the carcass
called New London.
No one said a word
muted by their fear and
mortally afraid of rocking
the electric boat
the pharmaceutical giant
and the development arm –
maybe their house
would be next on
the Proverbial Chopping Block.
Better to not say anything
They reasoned.
I sit comfortably on the hardwood rocker
at home in Pawcatuck
read Berrigan’s “Things to do in Providence” again
Make coffee smoke Camel cigarettes
damning myself for
thinking too much
& acting too little
standing idly by
grazing for 36 years
trusting lookouts
paid for by
who knows who
searching bags
at school plays;
using metal detectors on
invalids
in wheelchairs
at airports.
The evening news promises
“Ways to spot a terrorist” at 6 o’clock
I’ll just have to wait til then
Right now I can’t tell the terrorists
From the man on the street
I’ll just watch as
people close to me
hang on
financial worries
health
welfare
well-being.
I’ll think of
the aged,
the disabled &
the veterans at
VA Hospitals
In New Haven &
Brockton MA
swollen with patients
guys I know claiming post-traumatic stress disorder
hoping Social Security Disability Insurance kicks in
propped up in chairs
on Thorazine
drooling
speaking unintelligibly
about ketchup &
the worn tile floors of psychiatric wards at
Walter Reed Medical Center.
I think about how my experience shapes me,
how your experience shapes you.
Another afternoon has
slipped by,
I’m still sitting
in the rocking chair.
The gleaming boats
navigate
the Pawcatuck River.
Last night,
From this same spot
I watched a fisherman catch a fish
from one of those boats.
I could hear the man laughing.
The American Flag
hung limp
on mast
in yard.
The dog sits
at my feet
chewing his hindquarter
for a flea.
I think of the lack of rain &
eminent domain…
At night
I travel Eugene O’Neill Drive;
at an intersection sits
a young cop in
an impeccable uniform.
The streets are empty.