Wish I were the gatekeeper to this condominium,
of closed gates, this global village, low paid and silent witness to the ins and outs.
In bundles of beige enlightened pastel organic, 460 cotton color coordinated linens washed, where S.U.V. meets Mercedes for tennis and Thai meets Chi for chai, and George trades flavors with Missy while Ted plays golf with Peg, who knows all about it and meditates.
Incensorial ginger ginseng pill popper global village of closed gates.
Wish I had joined the union of gatekeepers, card carrying member by now, wish I were professionally well defined. Wish I had a uniform, uniformity, clear expectations, cigarette smoking, boredom, and everything.
Wish I belonged.
Wish I were the irrevocable porter for this caravan, the one who carried and inventoried the material possessions, the super for this condominium, the keeper of the keys for the closed gates,
in this the first, or could it be the second, maybe the third? the fourth of my worlds?
Wish I were the temporary mad wandering clearing house witness, unreliable gatekeeper to this ecological bordello, the soothing puppeteer
to the capital buddhisms
of our madams and our men.
The words are mine and were written sometime between the turn of the millennium and 2010, dated1 and expressing an ironic anger and frustration that probably comes from being on the outside as a woman, as an immigrant, and as a person who continues to need to tweak, and to poke at the marvelous glory of change.
Circumstances have changed since then, but have they really?
Enlightenment in western style continues to be quite tribal and quite expensive… the reinvention of the nuclear family and of the self requires wise investments and higher expenditures.
Yet my lens of the current tribal and their ironies, as I see them today, also reveal my own fundamental literalisms…
There is a saying from philosopher James Hillman that professor Tom Cheetham 2quotes often in class, and I am borrowing widely and freely:
Literal fundamentalist thinking is also creative imaginal thinking.
The ground under me holds the structures of my own castles. By extension, by feeling and by recognition of common labor, the ground around you also holds your choices and structures for the castles you inhabit.
We are all grounded in the fundamental rock structure of earth in what sometimes feels quite real and solid. I am my own gatekeeper and the many rusting Iron men by the river crossings are mine in dream. As they are yours too, by common ancestry… as all our dreams are meshed…
Terceirizada vila global
Quisera eu ser a porteira dessa vila global
de condomínio fechada, tropical e complicada,
desse o primeiro, o segundo, o terceiro mundo?
Ou seria só no quarto?
Mas não era um desejo corporeo de se abraçar
era mais a vontade de entrar nalgum estado diferente do ser dela,
quem sabe simplesmente menos burguês.
Algum macio e caudaloso de dança a dois,
da pele que queima no toque,
de algum chines, nalgum bordelo,
oriental que fôsse.
Quisera eu ser a porteira desse futuro,
sindicalizada, protegida e abraçada.
A porteira louca desse bordelo ecológico,
de condomínio fechado
desta vila global.
Testemunha passageira e temporária
desses budismos das nossas madames
e dos nossos capitães.
The heat today is such that it requires nerves of steel (Nervos de Aço) … in a possibly unrelated tune by Lupicinio Rodrigues, a classic Brazilian composer of delightful and impossible fundamentalist heartbreak songs. On the 7 string guitar, virtuoso Yamandu Costa from Brasil, and in voice Antonio Zambujo, from Portugal, in an engaged performance.
Footnotes
I have not seen one small car manufactured in this country since then. Large S.U.Vs. are now synonym to private transportation and compact means luxury. Global warming now means I need to hide inside with the AC…or else I melt. My house does not have one. I also changed the cotton count from 320 in the original to 460, not realizing that I am quite out of touch with capitalism. 1000 is common now but you can get lost in the search, starting here: https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/home-products/a27494227/best-thread-counts-for-sheets/. Now here is a good job for AI.
Tom Cheetham teaches philosophy and related subjects, mostly online, part of year, and his classes are quite transformative. His website - https://www.tomcheetham.com/classes
The Portuguese version, entitled Outsourced global village is written through quite a different lenz…
Love the poem.
Beautiful, a treat to read your writings. A joy to call you friend!