hayek and keynes

by jesse s mitchell

illustrated by rhoda penmarq

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 and things, like Hayek and Maynard 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.”