1st 100 Days—Portland
I have a friend—some- time bandmate—Daily… Whining, wringing his hands. Distressed and depressed— anxious and agitated—he Knows nuclear war and Armageddon are on the agenda if Boss Tweet’s Back—big lies, gas-lighting another four years…
My meditation and its compassion keep me from screaming, “Come on out of that cannabis cloud, read writing on other walls— smell some sub rosa burgeoning of black lives—smell the Resistance!”
Instead, I celebrate long stem red roses stretching Seattle, City of Angels, Tha Town, Minneapolis, Kenosha, Atlanta, Louisville, Baltimore, Ferguson— Chicago-Red State teachers’ strikes to The City of Roses!
Instead, I celebrate The City of Roses— Red roses metastasizing in teargas; Red roses blooming beneath baton blows— springing up on Solidarity Street, opening behind Walls of Moms Red roses kidnapped in camouflaged fertilizer— blooming behind walls of ICE; flowering in fascism: foul compost of a wilting, shriveling empire… Red roses exploding in FOX-box foot-soldiers’ faces— silencing lying lawyers; Red roses burgeoning in blood of John Browns: Red roses entangled in blue-violent pigmented thorns—blue symbolizing mystery: How thorns are being Overcome…