when the moon is in Fresno
and the sun sets a purplish
haze over early-autumn skies,
the cold winds of Hell
breathe heavily against
the hopes of local heroes
and the women who made them.
farmers stare off into the fields
without realizing, and housewives
pull their young close to their
bosoms – suddenly and
intuitively they sense the onset
of a long and severe influence;
a time of hardship and hindrance
when the faith and courage of
more than a few good men
and women are put to test.
the carousel is out-of-control,
and in the whirlwind confusion
crops will fail, loved ones will
pass away, jobs will be lost
and the simplest of dreams will
be stifled by saturn’s blues:
a mocking nursery rhyme telling
of horror and despair, and sung
over and over again with endless
variations on the same cruel theme.
(from Adam Donaldson Powell’s “Collected poems and stories”, 2005.)
“Corona: In the Eye of the Storm (We Can’t Breathe!), oil on canvas, 61 x 61 cm.”
This raw, mechanical and spontaneous painting portrays: “A naked eye — whose hopeful eyelashes have long since been singed away — strives to peer out of the cotton bedding with which the enclave’s psychic environment is upholstered. The dizzied prisoner of this padded cell is searching for grounding; but the floor is in a constant state of movement, change, and insecurity. It is an asylum and is thus meant to keep us locked inside … as much as to keep outside the World. We cannot escape The News, the media, the opportunists, the fear, the meme, the boredom … or our own futility in trying to forever hold off the inevitable. And the written warning scrawled in Day-Glo Green resonates and resounds in the most powerful and succinct language possible: QUARANTINE!”
— Adam Donaldson Powell
(survivor of the AIDS-plague)
Adam and The Meme.