Posts tagged ‘Taxes’

April 21, 2018

(welcome to minnesota) how to talk about what is important

while many are out
protesting gun violence
and the moronic, petulant
politicians
that they hate for their hatred (irony),
transit workers are being
beaten in the streets to silence,
Minnesota families are being taxed
beyond belief to silence,
and social media is acting big brother to silence.
i am not sure that we all hear.
but you don’t
care, and you are there.
go fund me about it.
go start some new petition.
go join a herd of same.
i have too truly.
it is my true duty.

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March 31, 2018

When I Commute from Hamline/Midway in St Paul to the East Bank of Minneapolis at 7:20 in the Morning and back at 5:15 in the Evening, it’s a very personal experience that I will share with you because you are part of it too and everything and you should know

outside, on the street, other drivers can’t drive.
i mean they drive, but badly.
going on University Avenue to CVM by Surly
i realize this frequently, daily, to my surprise…
i want to see all my surroundings at once,
close captioned, in HD, real-time,
over 280, let me explain.
people choose not to use their turn signals,
they choose to not stay in their own lane,
they find illegal parking on the side by Dunn Bros…
when we pay taxes we pay for both sides of the road, i get it.
at West Gate Station, get ready to abruptly stop, always.
Get ready to get looked at hard, in a not nice fashion.
there is no open road freedom.
further, pedestrians look at crosswalks like patrons look at art at the MIA.
here, nothing special to see, white lines, no meaning apparently; awe-inspiring.
i am stuck in Frogger, these are the frogs, i am the cars.
try me, run for the train.
when i sit shotgun i am a shackled dictator repeating:
slow down, babe!
watch out, babe!
OMG, don’t tailgate, please, i know this person loves
causing accidents…its probably
an insurance scam waiting to happen…
see those dent’s, i can tell they are texting and driving 3 cars away.
what a nice person, what a great driver, i substitute curse words.
i like to think about things like that, and potholes.
they make the moon landing less believable, these craters on earth.
both cities, just please fix the fucking roads.
this is in my head i never say it.
only more cordially or through art…
i don’t care about politics because they just talk.
just make it so i can get to somewhere without destroying my vehicle,
at least when i am in the beautiful city of, i am between.
if i wanted to off-road most days i would go to the farm.
still i am offered excuses, told how hard it is, all at once, patience.
as an adult who pays taxes, officially, and who drives a leased Subaru
i can appreciate the idea of better infrastructure
for logical reasons like having nice things, if you can’t agree
that’s not for me…
but again, outside, other drivers can’t drive.
and, now, the construction site that took away our child’s daycare
to make cheaply built expensive high-rise condos
also takes away the single lane
after they took away the double lane a few weeks back.
and i got no condolences, i make nothing off it only lost time.
it’s hard to apologize for wanting better roads
and better drivers on those roads, and people to get off
their phones, and for some dangerous bikers to be careful, to choose a side.
i guess for a safer and better life for all, a better community…
that’s initiative today, just complain about it.
i can’t recall the last time
i didn’t pay for insurance, tabs, plates, gas,
parking, repairs, oil changes, general maintenance, deductibles for insurance
after hitting a twilight rodent; that’s just life tho, my choice, i know.
but other drives, O, it’s so hard to understand them!
and they breeze by and scowl like i have a problem!
(probably it’s me too, we are all to blame.)
and they act like they have never wronged or sinned or failed,
or mistakes don’t happen to them, ever. i think we know better.
that’s America though; we never do wrong. they do, right?
we are all Gentlemen Animals, no different. human animals.
covering so that the Thought Police don’t get to us at some point.
but the Thought Police are Facebook and Twitter and WordPress and GMail…
but other drivers out there, please drive safe you add value.
i don’t know, i love you because unless i am eating
i talk, so i would make a bad spy… and you are great.
i don’t know, i like the view to curtail this complaint or Ode,
it’s beautiful, i race trains and buses and
the sun’s glare from St Paul in the east. i see all people,
and i love them, even as drivers, commuters, they are part of my day and me.
it’s a perfect way to get to where you need to go.
it’s a perfect way to be a part of it.

September 15, 2015

Minnesota Word Association

Vikings
Stadium

Tax Dollars
Consume

Corporate
Gangsters

Local
Buffoons

July 13, 2015

Confederate Flags, Cotton, & The Vikings; Modern Symbolism

I sort of understand
The confederate flag supporters—

I don’t agree with them,
But idiots are idiots;

I root for a losing team as well.

It’s insane.

The Minnesota Vikings are
Historically a losing team
That everyone loves,
Their organization represents
Our humble and beautiful state
In near billion dollar facilities
And tax incentives.

Now I wonder,
These two groups are similar,
The Southern States and the Vikings (The NFL Team),
In that they did/do not often win—or never did,

Same, yeah…
Different, yeah…

Use your imagination…

They are similar
Except for the fact that
the Vikings (seafarers) never kept slaves (presumably),
They just raped, plundered, and pillaged
Whole cultures and peoples (See: Ireland),
Taking power and rule,

By way of attacks.

I don’t think everyone knows this,
Or thinks about this
When they fly their purple and yellow flag,
Or when they don
Their cherished team’s memorabilia,

But we certainly care about things.

It’s always an interesting game of money and distraction,
And who can yell the loudest on what interests them the most.

Now, I don’t know who to root for anymore,
There isn’t really anything that doesn’t represent something else…

To everyone else.

***
And what about cotton, the cash crop of slavery?
You and I wear it on ourselves daily.
The symbol doesn’t need to be obnoxious,
Star-spangled, red, white, or even blue to be offensive.

There is hate in just about everything,
And love, if you look hard enough.

April 9, 2015

The Best Idea that you Forgot Last Night

This wet morning I
am without
last night’s genius,

do you remember, I ask her.

It was a good one-liner.

No, she says…
I was tired.

So was I,
lacking a near pen, paper sat
on the nightstand as my head rested in
a pillow, my body under
a warm white duvet, next to her loving,

and at that moment my genius got up, jealous,
waited, and then moved to the door.

It felt all right
to let my genius
walk out and away.

Though, I hope it beat the rain.

October 14, 2013

What if I Shut Down?

What if I Shut Down?

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

What if I shut down?

 

The world will go on with or without me.

Those I’ve let down will no longer frown or doubt me.

Most will believe as they renounce my legacy with glee,

And pull apart what defense surrounds me.

 

What if I shut down?

 

Where you stand won’t change hands,

All will move about free.

 

What if I shut down?

 

Don’t mind the voice (barking television bobble-heads).

End the Fed, they say, but how can you kill what is already dead?

…  We just have to smell the rotting flesh, ready the grave, and off with its head!

 

What if I shut down?

 

This is post-logical, history for news, as they struggle, argue, blame, conclude, and abuse.

Others research, read, and consume truth.

 

What if I shut down?

 

We all sound the same to ourselves.

Are we all fools?

Do we play by the rules?

 

Who is in charge of the pens and papers?

Who is teaching this and that in the schools?

 

True to form, honest doubt;

Questions we have within, and without.

 

I can’t believe such thoughts and ideas compounding, likewise confounding, without viable and realistic results.

But don’t worry, I won’t ask you to cite your source, and to be fair, I won’t ask myself.

 

What if I shut down?

 

I am not like Uncle Sam; he is more indebted than I.

He is not like me; I have unfiltered eyes.

 

What if I shut down?

 

I will be depressed and broke and still move forward in a more positive way.

In my best attempts I try to hide my remorse, of course.

I see a vast life of possibilities on the blank page, but they can’t even come to an office on the same day to make change.

August 16, 2012

Seasons Change/Lost Artists

We don’t get made we get mad.

We don’t get sad we forget.

We don’t get lonely we upload.

We don’t get even we just sit.

 

Preposterously angst-y flannel coated, fake hat over heady miss-matched brains, out of touch so much.

The 90’s called.

So much.

So much.

Just don’t touch me.

 

Driving us to pains- to pass out.

 

Pulling fingernail with tooth, fighting hand over fist.

Breaking it loose for blood to spit.

Something is amiss.

Eating good.

Shit.

 

Economically fucked, economically sound-Minneapolis;

-Entrepreneurs of the 2012 great depression; a making-it-happen obsession.

We bounce back, and they hire those who have not learned the lesson.

 

We talk a lot, but we don’t do much about it.

-We talk a lot, and we mean it.

 

Flying a sign on Franklin, or Lyndale, Or Downtown.

 

Figuring an accurate positive slogan…

Give me a moment…   Give me a moment…

 

A deal is a deal, I am fired if I am late.

I show up at 8.

I work the day.

I go home with a headache and nothing to show.

My rent does not go down like the girls I know.

 

Slumped in chair, pit of despair.

But I’m smilin’, not faking about it.

Not like the others.

 

We don’t have it so bad.

 

Where minimum wage gets you laid and keeps you out of the cold.

(It could just be the writing.)

Stockings hang to dry because the dryer costs a quarter more than budget.

 

Where minimum wage gets you tossed into the public.

We talk proper to out do the others in the lower class.

(They still ask for me at the bar.)

 

I come from fancy trailer in a valley in Houston County, to hanging out alone downtown in an alley.

To fashioned atop the flashiest bike you’ve ever seen in your life.

To rocking a knife-about to stab you with it.

 

I’ve met beggars, squatters,

Straights, and thieves.

 

But what I get out of all of this is the sleep I absolutely need.

 

And we all get:

Just precious boredom.

People just not trying.

Everything sounds the same.

 

Except for Lying.

Except for Lying.

 

Life is so much fun!

 

And most ask:

If I wasn’t surrounded by dumb people how would that make me look?

I guess the lack of entertainment around me makes me more interesting?

 

Praise to those interesting few.

Praise to those who try and remain on top of their game.

 

We have education, time, ambition, and creativity, but what we lack is heart.

I see it everyday Downtown.  I see it everyday walking around.

Lost Artists.