Views Of Camp
(A poem by Stone Riley, printed on the back cover
of some of the pamphlets where space allows.)
• • • • • •
I hope you're standing at the
when you pick this up.
You know, the table that's covered with free
flyers and pamphlets and newspapers, each
untidy paper stack held safe from the breeze by
a pebble or a bit of stick – and if the weather
looks like rain I guess there's a plastic sheet
laid carefully over the whole anarchic lot –
and I hope there's one or two of these
little pamphlets on it somewhere.
If you are,
please now look around yourself and see
– and try to truly see – what the folk
around you here are doing.
Or – just as good – I think
maybe you're in the "Free Library Tent".
Let's say you've sat down on an upturned
milk crate with your elbows on your knees,
and you've picked this pamphlet from a
jumbled cardboard box whose contents you
have volunteered to set out, at least roughly
classified, on the rough board shelves.
If you are,
please turn your ear outside the tent's thin walls
and try to truly understand by sound what folk
are doing in the camp.
(Also, after glancing through this bit of mirror,
you might decide to stand it up with its cover
showing on a shelf tagged "art" or "poetry"
or "inspiration" or "OCCUPY" etc.)
I ask you for this favor
– to cast your eye and ear around seeking true
visions of your fellow beings – because that is the
truth I tried to stand up on these pages.
These are my views of camp, dear reader. I am
inviting you to mix and match them into yours.
Most sincerely, Stone Riley.
2012 twixt Ostara and Beltane