Thresholds

I feel like we're in a threshold time.  Will we look back on these days as the beginning of the Israel-Iran war?  Will we look at May 2018 as the beginning of a de-nuclearized Korean peninsula?  Will this be the beginning of a new intifada?

I think of all of the poetry of liminal spaces, especially of Yeats' "The Second Coming."  Are we seeing the rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem?

This morning I wrote these lines:

In the afternoon, over cups
of cooling tea, we think of our ancestors,
the ones who could have told
our fortunes with those tea leaves
or a glimpse at our palms.
Embassies move, and the world burns.

And then I wrote up my idea that I thought might be poem or might be short story, the idea of the FEMA interview and what's kept us from full recovery from our Hurricane Irma damages.  It works well as a poem, with each possible multiple choice answer growing more complex.


This post is unfinished, but I'll publish it anyway.  I lost Internet connection as I was writing.  But I like the fragment that is here.