open letter to 2020
the neighbors shoot fireworks from their
driveways. a firepit burns oak branches
lately fallen from stately young trees lining
backyard boundaries. the smell of smoke and sunscreen
the sound of shredding crackers in the distance.
it's new years eve where i'm at. earlier, ausies
went thru this same thing, while i was making breakfastt
it's a real time warp which our internetting makes possible
and it's already tomorrow there, isn't it? it's tomorrow
where you're at too. and now you're just yesterday.
people be talkin you down, but i don't blame you,
so much. being born at the wrong time
isn't entirely your fault, despite what the upanishads
suggest. and that whole pandemic thing didn't
even begin with you. dammit, it's called -19 for a reason.
so i think you've been pretty goddamn eye opening.
telling it like it is, hindsight aint' the only thing
with tweny/twenty vision. you've shown a liberty
light on the hypocrisy that rules this country, if not
the whole frikin world. you've held its laser focus
on the things that matter, whom they matter to,
and whose opinions matter. no wonder you're vilified.
it's almost christlike, the way you've exposed all the temples'
slick slimy underbellies.i don't have to go
into specifics, you know what you've seen,
what we've all been through, together. the unstable
madman holding the world hostage was legally
ousted by you. wtf, no one should hate on that momentus acheivement.
that it almost didn't happen is not the point. that's just more
snake eye truth about your neighbors -the 50%
of people that you don't agree with. the flags are still in their yards,
you didn't get rid of that, but that's 2021's problem now.
you did your best. it was good enough. that so many deaths
occurred on your watch is a tragedy. but perhaps your tragedies
will lead to real progress for all people, not just those with power.
this year, we've been given hope, a respite from the money
that's mastered us for so long. we saw what can happen when we
truly work together. we saw what can happen when we divide
this young country this younng empire, this young
frankenstein of a dream, cobbled together
from huddled masses, hell hole flights and hope.
no year ever showed better what we really are.
goodbye 2020. don't think i'll forget you.
posted by hiccup at 4:51 PM
5 Comments:
wasn't so bad for me, no new physical changes, and the mental slow-down is still fast enough to get through the day without major mishaps, except my ocd is on the increase, drives me bonkers about twice a day. but the outside world has left me alone for the nonce, and that makes for a welcome new year. jimmy
Glad to hear you're thriving in these isolated times. I kinda like em too
don't know if it was crafted, or just inspired, but this is a particularly good piece of work
it was both, you know? hey crow. how's the world outside of this toxic bubble? these goings on remind me of a book i read in the aughties-dahlgren. about the dissolution of society, time falling apart. my character would be the father, dutifully going to work every day while the everything around him comes slowly unscrewed. a self hypnosis of normalty overlaying protests in the streets and the half of my countrymen who think the system stole from a con man. k.
it's pretty toxic everywhere, we'll all in this together, we're not doing great with the plague up north, unless you live in a few of the maritime provinces - but i gotta admit, i'm glad i don't live in the US - still, the 49th parallel is a thin, imaginary line, doesn't give me all that much comfort - that book sounds interesting - now i look at a lot of pre-apocalyptic literature as preminiticient, that's a word we need that i made up - it's hard enough living even with the sense that things will be more-or-less, somehow, okay, i remember that feeling, "indulging" in doomerism, rather than being forced into it - without that sense, well, i don't know how you do it, but you can write through it at least
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