First Lesson, Peacocks and Vultures, a Minnesota Summer's Tale, and a New World From the Old

First LessonNo gestures of guilt from the heart
My second-self said told me years ago, at fifteen:They live in a twisted dark, like:
"What should I teach you?" And I stopped still inLife walking out of death!
silence and listened, and thought: "Should I tell youWith grinding teeth in the middle of it:
in twenty-years or two-times twenty, you will beKings and Queens of brown eyes
dried-up, perhaps crippled, perchance maimedRubbish from the sea
from war? Should I tell you all you will have(Peacocks and Vultures in disguise)
learned from all the schools and colleges you'veAnd all those lies upon lies-die
attended, all the culture you have seen and takenInside their twisted truths...!
in, and all the science you have witnessed in yourNo: 2694 (May 25, 2010)
lifetime, is nothing but repugnant mockery? AndA Minnesota
that man makes war in the name of God andSummer's Tale
humanity, for self-interests, and those who makeIt is a Minnesota summer's tale
it usually never fight in it. What can I teach you atThat the leaves twist twilight over its many lakes,
fifteen that you'll remember at sixty, that you'llAnd the guideless wind swept leaves, lunge
need at nineteen that may do you some goodforward,
now?" And I stood there and I listened-unspoiledLike flags and flakes, colourful veils and shawls,
from the hardships of life-for the most part.And the Minnesota moon falls warm,
With the smell of burnt leaves, and the crouching
And I said to my second-self: "Teach me how toCornfield crows flocking with the owls, and cows,
fight, how to shoot a gun and rifle, and to pull theWaiting for Minnesota's harvest to be,
metal pulley from the hand grenade, show meIt is a Minnesota summer's tale indeed.
how to kill, and survive a war, a neighborhood,Of cornfields, and burning leaves,
how best to read the faces of human beings,With crows with wide wings, and scarecrows
how to use a bayonet, how best to aim the rifle,Stuffed with wilted weeds and woollen cloths
how to keep my cool and breath correctly underCoverings-as the crows comb the tepid sky,
rocket fire, how to crush bones if need be, andWaiting for morning- with bare white eyes,
to reset them. What do I do with a man with aHere is where the winds carry songs,
stomach wound? How about a head wound? AllAs the leaves pass by, and the cries of
these things I do not know, and more I'm sure IHungary birds-once lost in the winter snows
need to learn-teach me."Curled up within their wings, sing
"How then should I presume to teach you?"Of a Minnesota harvest to be, a summer's tale...!
asked my second-self.No: 2697 (5-20-20109
"Anyway you can!" I said.A New World from the Old
"There will be no more school to-day," said my(Poetic Prose)
second-self.When I was young, very young, I ruled the
"Why?" I asked.playgrounds at school with my energy, flashing
"You need to go have some fun, before thewith courage and eagerness, as if in a battle, my
second lesson!"glance-keen, and from this I became an obstinate,
No: 2709 (5-29-2010) Poetic Prosepig-headed teenager, and then as a young adult I
Peacocks and Vulturesshot up, thinking I was impossible and angry; I
(For my Neighbors in Lima)shrugged my shoulders thereafter, and then
They live on the wrong side of truthsuddenly I quite drinking, and acquired an
My neighbours in, Peru,occupation-although before that, it had been the
Kings and Queens of brown eyesother way, I was amazed, I counted for
(Peacocks and Vultures in disguise)something-and thought, "What a world to go back
Under the May misty skies;to.