Breakfast at the end of capitalism
Michael Dickel
It rained last night. This morning, cloudy skies may yet rain some more. I drink coffee in En Kerem. Moshe’s class presented a program on Bialik earlier, singing a poet’s songs—considering poetry already at age 6. My grown daughters, activists, oppose a president of doubtful legitimacy. Poets will read today all over the US as part of (at least) two national organizing efforts protesting this corporate pretender. In New York City some will read at the library, some at city hall. Each empire in its time comes to an end. We survive and move on. Poets will sing this with harmony and dissonance. Someone writing a history of all this will show that we do not understand more than a few train-car lengths of Benjamin’s wreckage. The Angel of History always weeps, but we manage to make love and to raise children and to continue. The 5% cottage cheese promised by the menu was missing. In its place, labeneh—a better choice. The breakfast at En Kerem turns out to be very good.
Now available as part of a free PDF chapbook, Breakfast at the End of Capitalism
Categories: Art, Experimental writing, Liberal views, poems, Poetry, Politics
great way to incorporate the links in the poetry. let poets do what they do best: have their voice be heard.
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Yes. Thanks. Did you put your mouse cursor over Benjamin’s wreckage? If you’re on a computer (I don’t think it works on mobile devices), try it. Wait for it.
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Nothing beats some good philosophical thinking — (If I didn’t get enough of reading it for my university degree haha)
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Your children are your greatest treasure. Beautiful essay.
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