Author: jd

Joseph Duemer is Professor of Literature Emeritus at Clarkson University in northern New York state. His most recent book of poems is Magical Thinking from Ohio State University Press. Since the mid-1990s he has spent a good deal of time in Vietnam, mostly Hanoi. He lives with his wife Carole & five terriers (four Jack Russells & one Patterdale) on the stony bank of the Raquette River in South Colton.

5 thoughts on “Gaza”

  1. 12/30/08 VALENTINE

    Yesterday the scheduled murder
    of the holy innocents of Gaza

    surely all the children must be
    taken innocent and holy

    the way the land was once
    gold hills who murdered you

    who took you for granted
    but for one poor palm tree

    today after years of listening
    to frustration and bitterness

    in cold diplomatic hallways
    gets to stand in my morning window

    a sudden flight
    of blessedness held still.

    stuff: so what is this stuff diggingup a past ignoring today’s own blood and lymph so is it roots
    the response prescription of our resident president is to go shopping
    what kind of shopping w/o coin is this kind of exploration i am doing

    remember that old song: what kind of fool am i (from the musical in probably early 1960’s or earlier STOP THE WORLD I WANT TO GET OFF) anthony newley wrote and performed

    so much drifts like the needles from the norfolk pine trees out front here in freedom west. our other trees are mostly olives, black olives. and we have hummingbirds. do you have hummingbirds?

    happy new year. i’m slothfully hitting the keys as i am off work several days.

    somebody might ask where is my mind and might answer for me in with the dishes and the washingup water. sometimes i feel all a rhetorical scream encapsulated in nonsequiter bubbles. (i love that i can spell bubbles)

    Edward Mycue 30 December 2008

    (for Naomi Can-do the little engine who puffs “I think I can I think I can”, 58)


    The enemy of my enemy
    is my friend. The friend
    of my enemy is my enemy.

    The friend of my friend is
    my friend (unless that
    friend is a friend of the
    friend of my enemy). The

    feud of my family is
    a breach in the friendship
    of my blood. My blood is

    my enemy? Is this the edge
    of my world? How canine
    is the tooth of my despair?
    Where is a pulse for peace?

    Edward Mycue

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