poem of the day 08.07.08 (kind of an oldish one)

the most beautiful thing

i try to see beauty.
for instance,
i see the mist rising
off the stink of a lake
in delaware park,
and i see the young autumn sun
illuminated through the thinning
trees.
i ponder a hungry robin
digging in the wet grass
for a breakfast worm
outside the art museum
and wonder when he’ll be
leaving this miserable city.

but i also see
the broke bums outside
the 24-hour store, looking
to rob someone for a crack fix,
and the parade of the insane
making their way back
toward the madhouse,
after being left to their own
devices
during the night.
i see the interstate exit up ahead,
and in my nostrils,
oozing down my throat
is the scent, the taste
of car exhaust and bile
before i even mingle with
the work-obsessed masses.

so i don’t know what to make
of the dichotomy,
the easy blend of nature and life
and the rotting taint of human death
on this one simple street.
and i wonder if others see it too,
the imbalance and impurity
of it all,
our demise as readily available
as dogshit.
or is everything just a blur of color
in between the bass lines
of the radio,
the constant ringing of the cell phone,
the luxurious sip of over-priced coffee,
beneath the anticipation of prime-time
television,
as the fleeting moments play out
for all of us
on this daily battlefield.

everything i see looks so
disposable
so breakable
so fragile.
i think that if i could truly do
something
for the world,
i would do something to
fix that.
and that’s about the most beautiful thing
i can think of,
as this truck waves me on,
and i hold my breath
to merge into this morning’s
traffic.