maxine chernoff

The Commons

“The house. . . is never seen, either by the eyes of the body or those of the mind.” 
— Hannah Arendt

1
Woods, meadows, streams
shared by community
in old German law: 
so green will have a dwelling.

2
The language was shared.
They had it in common.
Prepositions were their tonic.
Every morning they made love.

3
Without a public realm,
freedom has no worldly reality.
Despots banish people to their homes,
where they speak in whispers.

4
“I miss the village green
and all the simple people.
I miss the village green:
the church, the clock, the steeple.”
 
5
People flee a city
when buildings start to fall.
Only rats and pigeons— 
we have them on surveillance.

6
I had dreamed it so:
a threshold and a grave.
All the world’s a slum
and we its shadow workers.

7
Here to speak of ruin
in  an age of plenty.
Fresh Kills filled with sofas.
Human flesh remains.

8
Meanwhile in Manila
children play a game,
blindfolded in the dump
reaching out their hands.

9
When tsunamis come
they also cleanse the world
Everything flowing over,
tumbling into grace.

10
So a fool said
on his way to church.
Let us praise the dead
with chilling nonchalance.

11
I had thought I knew
how the world would end
but all I really know
is how to stare and point.

12
No one goes there now
There is not a place—
our commons but a song

lost as it is sung.