by George Salamon
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| “Sleepwalker” sculpture by Tony Matelli at The High Line in NYC. |
"...an age when Americans were sleepwalking through history..." —Haynes Johnson, Sleepwalking Through History, America in the Reagan Years (1991).
It feels like we've been asleep since
The movie star charmed us to sleep,
Since our aspirations and expectations
Were stamped out of date and we decided
To sleep through the times when roles of those
On the national stage became vacant, when
Nothing could move anything to animate the
Emptiness we'd sleepwalked into, when every
Movement failed to resuscitate our consciousness,
We found ourselves alone and blind to what was
Waiting for us beyond the bend in the road, so
Today we cannot tell if everything has stopped,
Waiting for everything to start and we're just
Looking to find the right sequence so we can
Join again and, if all goes well and we the
People can find our voice and finally learn
To play against the rules and the rulers.
Is there reason to hope, or is hoping merely
Lying to oneself and this poem merely
What I dreamt?
George Salamon lives in America's "heartland," but even so he cannot tell if there is still enough in the heart and vision of Americans they can share and make known to those who look with contempt and condescension on "bleeding hearts."
