Saturday, December 29, 2018

22 Main Street

Isaiah Page built this house in 1897
and signed his name on the back shed wall.
He owned the general store across the street,
and was postmaster, Town Clerk and Treasurer.

His wife, Ellen, lived here until her death in 1903.
Isaiah then married his second wife
who lived here until his death in 1911,
when the place was sold to the Gibsons.

Fred and Agnes Gibson retired from the
Gibson family farm in Ryegate VT in 1927.
They moved to Monroe and bought this house.
Agnes died in 1933 and Fred in 1943.




























Two black-and-white exterior photos taken
in 1936 show a three-tone paint scheme.
From scraping clapboards and trim,
I learned they were white, dark green and gray.

George and Emily Bort bought the place in 1940
after their farm up the road burned down.
An auction poster to sell off their livestock
and equipment now hangs in the kitchen.

When George died in 1947, Emily converted it to a
boarding house for teachers from the academy across the river.
She installed a primitive fire alarm system and dead bolt locks
on each of the four upstairs bedroom doors.

Roland and Pauline Marcotte bought the place in 1969.
He was a truck driver for Kilfassett Farms in Ryegate VT
and caretaker of the North Monroe cemetery.
He built a tiki bar in the room where I’m sitting.

Dexter and Laura Johnson bought the house in 1979
as a retirement home and rented it out for several years.
They made a lot of improvements but
my father’s death in 1989 kept him from ever living here.

The Town Clerk told me about a police raid
that found marijuana plants drying in an
upstairs bedroom which had been painted black.
That tenant skipped town.

The cranky owner of the general store rented the house
while his store was being rebuilt after a suspicious fire.
He made such a fuss about the taxes on his new store
that the next town meeting voted the town dry.

Another tenant who lived here with her daughter
installed white shag wall-to-wall carpeting
both upstairs and down before she moved
back to West Virginia to care for her dying son.

The house sat empty for 13 years until
we bought it from my step-mother in 2005.
There was no heat or running water due to broken pipes
and it took us 6 months to repair everything.

My son, Scott Johnson, who is an accomplished carpenter,
spent many weekends working with me on the house.
His work and creativity turned it from
a run-down old house into a beautiful home.

This room was one of two parlors—
the one with the double French doors.
It’s now a home office with
two Macs, wifi and phones.

I wonder how many of the previous residents
during the last hundred and twenty years,
made love or bounced babies
on their knee in this room where I sit.

Friday, December 28, 2018

Metadata as poetry


Metadata provides information about data.
There are descriptive metadata, structural metadata
and administrative metadata.

Descriptive metadata describes data for purposes
of discovery and identification and can include
title, abstract, author and keywords.

Structural metadata describes containers of metadata
and indicates how compound data are put together
like ordering pages to form chapters.

Administrative metadata provides information to help
manage data according to file type, how and when
it was created and who can access it.

See you later metadata.

Haircut

As a boy I was
fascinated by
the reflections
of reflections
of reflections
of reflections
of reflections
of reflections
of reflections
in the facing mirrors
of the barber shop.
I tried to see
to infinity.

Catch 23

Those of us who don’t believe
in ourselves face a dilemma.
If we put our whole heart
into doing something,
the chances are good we will fail
and our worst fears will be confirmed.
If we play it safe and don’t really try hard,
we have the comfort of knowing we failed
because we didn’t really try.

Abundance vs. Austerity


If abundance spawns generosity
and austerity spawns greed,
how do we explain
the avarice of the rich?

Thursday, December 27, 2018

Net Gain

The failure of Christianity has not been its theology,
but the way it has been used to justify greed,
bigotry, discrimination, hatred, war, genocide,
pedophilia, slavery, torture and dismemberment.

Society’s net gain from Christianity over the last
2000 years looks to me to be negative.

Historical Novels

Churchhill warned that history
is written by the victors
who get to document the wars,
demonize the losers,
draft the treaties,
determine the reparations
and publish the schoolbooks
that praise their actions.

History books are filled with
myths told by the powerful
to justify
the maimed children,
broken families,
bombed homes,
crippled societies and
the hate-filled survivors.

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Survivors

They sit beside old roads
Sad houses sullied by forgotten families
Deflowered Federal and Victorian ladies
Wearing awkward additions
Mismatched windows
Incongruous dormers
And unflattering porches.

They are signs of simultaneous
Progress and decline
And all shamed by their
Vinyl attire.

My mind is a hard drive

cluttered with old files
for forgotten projects
and obsolete applications
that no longer process
today’s data.

Is there a file cleaning app
for the human brain?

Fought for naught

No one wants to say it aloud that
America’s ill-fated imperialist wars
have all been fought for naught.

Lead under pretense with pernicious plans
and malevolent lies into catastrophic conflicts
squandering soldiers’ lives and limbs.

Politicians parlay patriotic palaver into profits for
mercenary military manufacturers who
compensate with campaign contributions.

No one wants to talk about slaughtered civilian
fathers, mothers, brothers and sons whose survivors
now hate us for the deaths of their loved ones.

Shattered lives and traumatized brains
cannot be repaired with political platitudes.
Human pain properly pre-empts profitability.

No one wants to discuss the debilitating debt
our children and grandchildren are inheriting
to feed America’s addiction to military madness.

No one wants to confess complicity.

No one.

Chrononhotonthologos*

Poor golf pros from Brockton who knock on doors
of good wood follow fools to hollow floors.

Good doctors from Boston who own old Volvos
toot horns pro bono to honor solo donors.

Worms who glow go downtown tomorrow
to look for gold crowns in cocoons to drown sorrow.

Bold bonobos who bop so cool on bongos
show cold cobs to top-notch broncos.

Robot dogs who cook on roofs of school dorms
throw bonbon cookbooks to blond bookworms.

Gold fowl who roost on top of storm doors
drop down for brown cows’ strong colon odors.

Dogs who howl to moon show jowls to voodoo clowns
on lowdown docks known to hot towns.

Who knows why?

* A satirical play from 1734 by the English poet and songwriter Henry Carey,


Prisoners

America has a problem.
We refuse to admit our mistakes.
It’s not a question of politics—
Republican vs. Democrat or left vs. right.

Until we admit our mistakes,
we are doomed to continue the wars
and the killing and the racism
and the discrimination and the pollution
and the environmental devastation
and the economic inequality and the greed.

We are prisoners of our own ignorance.

Ostriches

We believe we’re too big to be a banana republic,
too Christian to allow racism and genocide,
and too informed to be duped by a second-rate con man.

We watch our newscasts,
listen to our favorite talking heads,
and faithfully follow our favorite social media stars.

But we never want to think that our democracy
is only as strong as the willingness of its citizens
to be informed, involved and importunate.

Conundrum

The wealthy class that controls
America’s political system
creates the very problems
they are elected to solve.