Reflections on Massachusetts Ave, 7/23/18

It’s so fucked up
This culture
People with rucksacks walking there
Like There is someplace to be
As if here is never enough.

Right here!

Can’t you see what’s right here!

A tree some soul planted
Maybe from a seed or a sprout
Has grown up
Having found the sun.

A woman runs by
Ear buds in her head holes
That could,
If she were still enough,
Hear a bird in the city, singing.
But no.
She is talking business
Instead of just sweating.

Here! I tell you
The place to be
Right in this spot.

Don’t move
For a minute.

And see
And hear

And be.

Forget all the stones stacked up
Neat as can be
Organized like Earth never imagined.
A monument to nothing.
A dwelling for no one
We know.



Water drunk from plastic.
Lifewtr. Purified.

In each, a stream
Asking us to drink it
From our open palms
Living, pure.

A bronze Gandhi
Walks. Frozen.
On watch. Who
Will wake,
Walk with him
To collect salt?

12 thoughts on “Reflections on Massachusetts Ave, 7/23/18

  1. S Francis says:

    Thank you Eugenia. Really just a set of observations on my walk, but the observations really pivoted on being present and aware and recognizing that modern life offers so many distractions to prevent us from seeing the work we need to do for one another.

    Liked by 1 person

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