CHICAGO ..... IS NOT NEW YORK

I am sitting with a group of people, it is a lovely church called the Church of the Three Crosses(non denominational), a beautiful building, a lovely pastor, I think, everything is nice here, so nice.  They feed us after the service and during the meeting, the meeting that brought me to the Church.
"resistance to the Israeli imperative/agenda  End the occupation, enlighten the world about the fate of the Palestinians..

I have followed this cuases for years upon years.  eager to be on the right track, out spoken at last, my moment of re-entry to the political world upon me when
This is CHICAGO.

There is a clear divide between those who are and those who are not.  A clear statement  in seemingly every Jewish place of worship or culture , that Isreal is paramount, to be supported, to be "defended".  that is what is asuumed.  Jewish people support Israel.  Only I don't! I don't!

and there I am sitting quietly, my presence a threat to the non Jewish people of this fine, lovely, seemingly inviting setting, wanting to discuss, to embrace and speak out for divestment, for a halt to the devastation of civilians, to a civilization that is crumbling and being  eaten up by the Israelis and the Americans and the Egyptians and I am feared.  i am a pariah.  I am not welcomed.  I leave the church with a splitting head ache.  I never get headaches.  i don't know what to do. Where to go.

Oh, Chicago, how dare I forget you are not New York. You are the mid west.  Hopelessly rural even in your  overgrown metropolis
you are an ignorant child playing in an adult playpen, your prejudice destroys over and over again.
You are determined to be blind and blind sighted, you are so seemingly open, accepting, yet closed,  an emotional liar, deceipt projected in your soft spoken kindness.
When will I learn to discern.
or
will I?

CAMEO CARES

cameo cares:

 

 

you say you are busy

always busy

too busy to call me

too busy to remember , when

too busy to listen when I speak

too busy to see the door

open or wait for it to close

too busy to say goodbye

to notice or admit you care

for you

everything is

moments

moments mounted upon moments

a flip of a switch

a change of  the channel

a flash on  a screen between commercials

when

you are in the room,

sitting next to me

and the screen

screams out my name

Cameo Cares

living alone

LIVING ALONE

I miss the smell of fresh coffee while lying in bed

the feel of a warm cover when cold

without putting it there

I miss knowing the time without looking

or the weather without going outside

I miss the sound of feet walking

even barefoot

the sound of a door opening and closing

while I am sitting in a chair or eating my breakfast

I miss the sound of a shower,

water dripping seemingly without cause

i miss asking about your day

or telling you mine

But what I miss most

is the sound of your voice

the feel of your laughter

the smell of french toast

on Sundays

even in Summer,

I miss the warmth

of your body and

the smile that says

so much.