Hayek and Keynes

Hayek and Keynes

Jesse S. Mitchell

I am nothing but noise here, 

like organ swells and grace notes, bags of bones with strings of hair, skeletal

  rattle rattle

Nothing but noise

Drained and dry…nothing but desert sounds and floods, nothing like sea, 

nothing but a bunch of dry words like dust

Dry mouthed like cracked lips…not even words

Rattle rattle.

In fairness, in all honesty, the last word on the matter

Was nothing but bad poetry…not even words

Just drops of something not even liquid, 

just drops of liquid

But it is a vow I intend to keep.

Salt water and half-fish eyed clouds… 

They keep the ocean up above, no matter what they say

All around nothing but big round sky.

Surrounding the flat world on its back

Broken by weight

Water water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.

Way below me the children and gnomes talk 

Money like Hayek and Keynes

But they are 6 million feet down

And I do not look down

6 million miles down

But I do not look down

Rattle rattle.

But I do believe in Blue skies

And I believe in warm weather too

I believe in the future.

Do not mistake me.

But it will not come by gaslight or fission

Torch flame or audacity

Or apparent lack of any or all.

It is a vow I intend to keep.

Magnetic like a storm, thunder and light and hot air

In the atmosphere but the breeze is a shame

Filled all up with swollen rain

With brackish drops, robotic ambiguity

But the wind call still carry words

Empty enough to fly

Hypnotic

“Midas has the ears of an ass”

“Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes”

“The ears of an ass”

“And she will have music wherever she goes.”