"The first thing to do
is to consider time
officially as ended.
We work on the other side
of time"
-- Sun Ra
I want to march like Sun-Ra
in glittering alien threads
into an incredulous pool-hall
and declare our intention to embark.
New Orleans, as ruined as the pyramids,
rising up majestic in the air
on howling trombone notes of joy
to launch another crescent in the sky.
The sun will strike us colorblind
once we're beyond the atmosphere.
We'll cast the last debris off over Kansas
and shower them a carnival of stars.
Together like stranded astronauts
who've exhausted the last of our air,
we'll lift off the mask at last
and dare to breath together.
We'll claim our place at last
in the ancient parade of zodiac
where Bayou Andromeda
brushes up against the Milky Way
Poetry Poem New Orleans Sun Ra Space Is the Place
Space is the Place
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3 comments:
I just stumbled over here from PWB. Love your work, especially this one. It's so uplifting, without being too happy. Very very nice!
Thank you. That is almost perfectly my intent. New Orleans is many things: joyous, tragic, beautiful, ecstatic. It is not, at this time, happy in any conventional sense. I would choose to live no other place on earth.
Considering all things NO, I'd have to say this poem may be futuristic - as in the Phoenix Shall Rise Again!I still don't understand how the people of NO feel about this event. Do they think it was a home-grown pre-engineered event or weather manipulation, like some bloggers I've stumbled upon..?
Your poem set off some thoughts and feelings I have about the whole debacle. Do you have another website where you discuss NO in depth and more detailed?
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