January Poetry Blitz: Mike Jurkovic

Pale Diaspora

I’m sorry I mistook the Mercedes Benz logo for a peace sign
But I haven’t been myself of late.

Now I’m not writing this to make excuses for myself
or leave the door open to any greater anti-testimony
from a senate of my peers but please welcome
the Lethargic Anarchists, who by their very nature
are the bulk of my acquaintances.
The password to their hearts is the title of the memoirs,
written each day, in a fine debtor’s hand.
Not disenfranchised, but accomplices—silent and stealthy
Alert, on a moment’s notice, to avoid complex intimacy
when a simple yes will do.

They bear me no ill but concede me my illness.
They hope for repair yet carry no tools.
We share a common trial: Making strange heroes
who leave post-its as referrals to our character;
a smattering of truth that does not adhere.

By Mike Jurkovic

(From Purgatory Road, Pudding House Publications. Mike Jurkovic is a co-director of Calling All Poets and a president of the Howland Cultural Center in Beacon.)

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