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Poetry Friday -- The Gulf Coast
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liz_scanlon
 Is it just me or does it seem like the Gulf Coast gets more than its fair share of trouble? 

What must it be like to sit there knowing that hurricanes are coming or, now, balls of crude oil washing up onto the beach? 

What must it be like for the birds and the animals, not knowing?

Thank goodness for the volunteers who rebuild houses and wash oiled birds.

And thank goodness, too, for artists who reveal truths, take stances, crack open possibilities, depict hope.

Dave Eggers' Zeitoun does all of this -- read it. Really.

And now here's poet Natasha Trethaway adding her part, too.
Look, and listen.
And to this one, too.

Who knows who is writing what today....


 


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I live in South Louisiana. 70% of the people in my town make their living from oil or fishing. It is heartbreaking to watch this disaster tear this place apart.

There is really no way to clean marshland, our state's natural barrier, our hurricane speedbumps, our eroding coastline.

I had a better time dealing with Katrina in my heart -- that was nature. This oily destruction of a huge portion of our planet -- that's human, and amoral, and unconscionable, and depressing as hell...

sigh...

Wow! Dave Eggers' story sounds gripping, honest and heart wrenching. A powerful combination that moves mountains when it comes to opening people's eyes. Thanks for sharing.

Dave does amazing things on paper. I went to college with him (we have mutual friends, but I can't remember if I met him back then!), his own story is awe-inspiring too.

I come by on occasion, hoping to hear some good news. I'm thinking about you and yours and hoping that things are getting better, that your husband is beginning to feel like himself again (although I will say that after my own bout with cancer, I was NEVER the same again. In a good way.) and that you are writing.

Lots of concern and care and big wishes for all things positive,
Barb Cooper

Passing

(Anonymous)
I will miss the thought of manatees
Lazing in the coastal seas
Prehistoric gentle beasts
Of ocean waters, warm.

I will long for the regal flight
Of graceful beauty, egret white
Or to see him stand knee deep in marsh
Searching for his supper.

No more, no more
Hang head and weep
For oily waters
Of ocean deep

Woe, oh woe
All have fled
And man has left
These waters dead

Listen close
For their ghosts will cry
"We are gone by
The greed of man."

~ gabrielle 5/24/2010

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