He strides the rallying halls
                Waving huge cowboy fedora
                Leather bindings
                Clear beige color

                Salutes the crowd
                Well wishers in Billings, Montana

Tracy Ginsberg is a visual artist who holds degrees from both the University of Michigan and the San Francisco Art Institute. Her works appear in numerous private, corporate and public collections...

    "Terrorism is the war of the poor against the rich. War is the terrorism of the rich against the poor."
    -- Peter Ustinov

            A drunk man said it was a sure fortune
            before he passed out.  You never touched
            the white powder: it never snows in Texas
            where you learned to make oil angels

            The world is a cheap hardware store,
            shelves emptied, cheap hammers
            upturned on vinyl flooring.
            My soul is blown glass,

            Fernando Pessoa crosses the Atlantic and it's dark,
            dark like the river Styx. In the distance
            he sees the last lights, the rockets, the bright flares
            of the Titanic. It's before radio. Somehow, though,
            he knows that Leonardo Dicaprio is freezing in the cold still water, and that Kate Winslett is floating
            like an angel above him on piece of bulkhead.

            From the dream world I crossed
            into yours to get a haircut,
            but it wasn't that simple.
            The first time I saw you was after
            I had argued with the barber about
            the length of my sideburns

                I've just contracted
                A twenty-thousand-square

                            Footer in B Hills

                So that fat comedian
                Has enough room

                            To screw as many

                Virgins as he wants.
                I'm slugging my gin, neat,

                Over Mt. Fuji
                a storm, bruise

                purple, slides
                into the valley:

                in the stroller,
                daughter Asia, new

                like the sprouts
                and as confounded

                A wall of bamboo forest
                where the trail head was

                still leads to a cluster of stone
                tombs the size of dog houses

                next to cherry name markers
                sunk long before the big war
                and, so bright light