My Appreciation (to Peter Gabel) (Cancer)

A movement is a kind of arena,

It's a non-violent venue for struggle,

You tussle like Spiderman and Sheena,

You have to be both wizard and muggle.


The grumpy people, they criticize you,

"Your permanent leadership is unfair!"

Confuting them's hard.  What they say's part true,

You're a hierarch with a burden to bear.


I was grumpy with you, and I was wrong,

I've benefited greatly from your works,

From your conjoining a school with art's song,

From your fusing thinking with friendship's perks.


Peter, you are a true benefactor,

You are the best kind of social actor.





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Am Fourth

Gayle Sayres was third, all of those years ago, I am an even less glorious fourth, A loser in the Boswash to and fro, Behind D.C 's south and Cambridge's north. I believe New York's best in biz and arts, While Boston excels in science and zeal, D.C.'s best in vying for people's hearts, Philly trails--that's truth, not just my own feel. But Philly is the place that draws me in, It's like my much-loved Jersey, but urban, A repository of city sin, A purple state, rural and suburban. You Northeast leaders--you are truly great, I prefer Philly and my fourth-rate fate.
Read more

At the Watchung Avenue Station

How does privilege work?  Let me show you how, From my park bench in Upper Montclair, I saw how its reproduction works now, With a mom and a daughter with blonde hair. Daughter is four or five with a frilled skirt, Mom lifts her into, I think, a child seat, Underneath, shorts--she's no Lolita flirt, She's too young to grasp her erotic heat. But in her later years, she'll understand, She'll wear the same outfit, but now she'll know, That for her body, there is a demand,  That she'll do well to conceal, and to show. She may decide that her privilege is wrong, Or she may use it to sing a sweet song.
Read more

A Toast to My Daughter and to Paul (Libra)

Does marry rhyme with a name or a mood? Neither.  I think that it rhymes with starry, It's a path that's both heavenly and lewd, To love, to make mistakes is to marry. Why is it matri- not patri- mony? Paul, here's a point relevant to you, The maternal root--it is not phony, To marry is to be a mother, too. Why do t's and d's often sound alike? We risk when we have betted or bedded, When we ride to our jobs on train or bike, To marry is to have desires whetted. To marry is to turn off one's damn brain, To embrace true joy instead of sham pain.
Read more