11 April 1999
i awaken in a mushroom of fog
at the inn at brown, room 512,
where dirk has arranged flowers on the table
and the new england wind teases an empty
bag along the floor

and we're still at war

the newspapers here 
are fabulous. which to buy?
the Times, the Globe, the Providence Journal

every day here i have bought a paper i could not read

one day, photos of smoke rising from
burning buildings
the next day photos of rubble

the next day photos of children
a tiny kosovo baby in an incubator
albanian children in a NATO camp
with bread & fruit

clinton photographed from behind
(unable anymore to show his face)
patting the prime minister of china on the back

a photo of an angry yeltsin 
with his mouth open - a caricature

the major newspapers are a bad trip
a cry for help
an insult to any caring reader

i am writing this in rebecca's van
driving from rhode island to new hampshire
where i can only hope for
better news, better papers

Newspoetry at Spineless Books