ignorance and economics

They say art doesn't really
change anything, so why study it

These people should really read
up on the velvet revolution.

Art and artists started that whole
thing, and, people tend to think
prague is pretty damn cool
these days

They say philosophy doesn't really
change anything, so why study it

These people should really read
up on marxism

Marx came strait from Hegel, and,
sorry to break the news, Hegel
was a philosopher

They say economics does change
things, but nobody wants to
study it

I have the remedy

Turn Milton Friedman and
John Maynard Keynes into baseball
Cards

Put their stats on the back
Bubblegum in the front

Boom, we’ll be competing
With Calcutta in no time.

My First Home

my first home
was in a cul-de-sac
near the park
with the rainbow
swings
and the teeter totters me
and my sister
would slide down
on particularly rainy days
or just lazy summer ones.

I'd ride to swim lessons
for my sister
and the neighbor
girl amy sloan
my mom next to me
playing tapes
of Alabama
I'd sing along
"bubba bubba
Bobbie sue"

there were no
boys in the
neighborhood
only girls
perhaps that is
why
I have always
loved them
watching them
splash around
in their small pools
not inviting me
over
but not telling
me to leave
either

I'd linger
watch their
smiles
heave bouncy
balls at the moon
wishing I were older
and not so enamored
with rusty
the next
door st. Bernard

I'd go off on my
own zipping on
my dukes of hazard
bigwheel
the one I later convinced
john owens
had a pop-a-wheelie
latch

id ride and ride
in my big brown
jacket
with orange
lining
never wearing
shoes
burning holes
in all my socks
to mothers chagrin
and fathers
chuckles

we watched tron
at our neighbors
house
munching doritos
scared out of our
wits at only
2 and 4

then the ministry
called my father
away
god was needed
in east multnomah
county
they needed a church
started
and someone to start
it

someone
who wore
a bronze
badge of courage
and had enough
charisma
for people to follow

he fit the bill

and then there
were realtors
at the small
blue house
in the cul-de-sac
and all my toys
were loaded up
and the house felt
empty and desolate

like something from
poe or
kafka

one fateful saturday
we drove away
in our white 74
Toyota station wagon
my mother was crying
and all the neighbor girls
ran behind us as fast as they
could waving to my sister

I thought maybe something
had broken inside
us
as I looked back
as they receded
into pavement
knowing
nothing like
this
would
ever
happen
again

because first
homes
by their
very
definition
only
happen
once