In 1967, political activist and singer-songwriter Phil Ochs wrote a song called “The War is Over.” Reportedly inspired by Allen Ginsberg and presaging John and Yoko’s peace crusade and Christmas song, Phil declares the Vietnam War over. Phil had a cultural sense of Vietnam. To him, the war wasn’t simply the fighting but a larger narrative that included the response (the marches, the teach ins, the alternative press, the music) and the emotionality of the times (passion mixed with frustration turning to rage).
Likewise the pandemic is more than just the germs. It includes the shifting information (and disinformation) about the disease, the public pulling together to support each other and the frontline workers, the shades of fear, the partisan political posturing.
It is in this broader sense that I feel the pandemic is over. The public outrage at the murder of George Floyd and the various responses to it has quickly supplanted the pandemic as the dominant vibe of the day. A stretch? Perhaps. In any event, I have stopped writing my series of coronavirus poems, at least for now. I will post excerpts over the next few weeks.
These are confusing and troubling times. I am finding them exhilarating and exhausting. I am heartened by some of the things that have unfolded. Prosecutorial justice is moving much more quickly than it has in recent police brutality cases. The “blue line” has been obliterated, with cops speaking out against the murderers of George Floyd, with some even kneeling with protestors. There are folks on the streets all around the world supporting the African American community. And as Jackie Salit, president of Independent Voting, said recently, the American people have outgrown their political institutions and are way out in front redefining what this country needs to be.
History is moving fast. We are taken up in it and making it. I’d like to spotlight a call for a conversational process from All Stars Project leader Antoine Joyce, who penned a recent piece in the Dallas Morning News:
And I’m posting two pieces. A dedication to the extraordinary jazz bassist Henry Grimes, who died of covid, and a short essay on the roots of my poetic style. I hope you enjoy them.
