For the Man on the Park Bench listening

The flowers I offer are anyone's to give,

but seemingly cash can make them acceptable;

Yet how can one shout to a sleeping city

that peace can achieve what a war vitiates?

               An Intellectual's dilemma: 
              thought is too slow,
                action too fast:
                both are unseasonable.


Within the mine of Truth, the hissing

seams collapse, exploding the galleries;

Stifled by panic I’m shouting and choking ...

ricocheted boots in the dusty light.


                An Activist's dilemma:
                in the darkness
                which way is advance
                and which retreat? 


Diving from brain to body I float -

physical certainty still surprises me

(Ah, but of course I have to know why!)

for a doctor is he who least helps himself.



                A Poet's dilemma:
                if I could say it
                would anyone listen;
                worse, Is It Art?


12 v 1980
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