Casing the Headlands

Casing the Headlands

In these hills, occurs to me
the remains of fortress walls…
the housings where great guns
once stood to defend America.

Here by Rodeo Beach,
before there were A-bombs
mammoth gun turrets
kept enemies at bay.

Gath’ring under clumps of trees
a wistful klatch of inductees…
in this place orderlies
from distant eras congregate.

Attachés from long ago
in silver hazes by the sea…
backlit by metallic notes
buoys, fiddle dee dee!

Gazing out at blue sea stack
(along this coast a shimmery glaze),
taking in the crashing waves

Like Helmut Lang in days of yore,
a slinky wisp perambulating
prancing this majestic shore
wandering ’round I lurk and ponder Hill 88.

What ghosts will some
strange cat see
fifty years from now?

Will there be another batch of
narley spirits by the sea?
Gaucho reincarnates
loping scrubby straits?

Maybe they will perch
beside a dreamy wag like me
who also comes to perorate,
a little philosophical
atop Hill 88.1

  

1 Rodeo Beach & Hill 88 are in the Marin headlands of Golden Gate park, locations which for a hundred years plus were part of a monster military base. Happily, these are now a staging ground for spectacular sunsets.

  

© 2017 by Robert Lane Wilder

The Mass Transit Blues

I.

A useless thing this safety net
no help for the ones who get
billed a hundred thousand times
the going rate for getting sick

Swindled by Kafkaesque
health insurance bureaucrats
jerked around
fingered like a piece of human lumber
treated like a grim subhuman
tagged with ID number

Corporato profiteer robots far and near
pawns and peons racing ’round
(ambitious sorts who do not care and
could not be more cruel)
corruption breeding cavalier
greed that’s seen as cool

Where is love where compassion
human warmth out of fashion
space cadets in public spaces
sporting ugly stressed out faces

In a tizzy wondering
what does all this mean
jittery fingers palpitating
challenged brains everywhere

Trudging down filthy sidewalks
between trash heap squares and screws
miseries a zillion billion bundled up shoving throughs
between every hangdog face
the mass transit blues

II.

Snapping turtles left and right
emblems of the grand dysfunction
underpinning urban blight

  

-copyr. 2017 by Robert Lane Wilder