Posts tagged ‘usa’

September 12, 2017

pleasant cricket sounds

as beautiful
and pleasant
as cricket’s may sound,
sometimes
they sound like
a broken in car
a few blocks down,
or my alarm clock
after hitting hard
the snooze
button, … so it’s
not so beautiful
or pleasant
or a treasure to take in,
you hear me?
but sometimes.

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September 9, 2017

logically you are not even if you say you are on account of your actions and that language’s histories

i wonder if when I,
poets, activists, or protesters
disparage Western concepts, culture, constructs,
in their precious american English
they realize that they are
wading in the deep waters of
conflicted ideology.
(i am not defending or attacking it, just a thought.)
i wonder if they realize how careless they potentially look.
(tho it could be misread or misinterpreted, easily.)
the language of the Oppressor
suites well for an offensive, good thought… Lorde’s

master’s house with master’s tools (as explained):
same with antifa violence–end’s means,
or narrow-mindedness politics, not for me.
some things are only those things in name.
i want actual world peace.
i literally want equality.
i have begged for equal parental leave rights for fathers.
(and sometimes i just want coffee or beer.)
i can’t care though in a world of apathy towards definitions;
maybe you can see what i look like through texts.
there must be a proper algorithm for that.
i write in it,
i teach in it,
i think inside my head in it,
how do you do in it?
language is that prevalent, do you think in second languages?
probably told something
about how i am in it by someone i don’t “know” in it.
but i must re-reflect in it, hypocritically.
do i wear cotton clothing?
most likely my parents did, and their grandparents did…
that crop we should truly burn for its despicable history.
who is this building i live in named after?

Occam’s razor a bit more and start removing those bricks too.
every pattern is another pattern resembled: what did it mean, again, then?
that lovely beach you go to, named for?
he must have friendly-fired at some point, making it somewhat ok.
did the Viking‘s not sack Dublin perhaps
raping and killing and plundering that Emerald Isle?
something about my favorite football team that doesn’t win…
the homeless may sleep for free in that structure’s shadow, cold tho.
i can’t recall because i wasn’t there
but these poets, activists, and protesters,
perhaps, they are backwards really–me too,
with language rooted in vile pasts they (and i) despise,
so fluid its will can change fast daily
just to make some poignant moral point work out for a new sign;
like media statisticians, i can make numbers speak too.
get them to sing like a well-oiled machine at church.
a few words in print, alas, but my Narrative… shit.
i can speak another language.
i have visited new and different lands.
i will never stop reading or changing my mind on anything and everything.
perhaps, if you are a globalist who has
never left the States and who only speaks
one language, mother tongue, how good are your big ideas?
practicing and preaching are two different things.
no big deal though, just saying, reflecting.
so how would you like to say what you think now?

September 3, 2017

you cannot know ever

do go ahead, appeal to me:
be open, be thoughtful , be free.
be like the antilablists be:
no “know”, no fact, no meaning.

August 24, 2017

things that matter

i don’t mind the alarm bells ringing 5 am
or having to make the coffee early then
or the way the news sounds on Google Home
or what MPR says about anything ever, so unbiased

or hard politics trying to make my very day
or nice lies trying to tell the real truth
or peace carried out through violence, it’s ok…
or how you say i am this or that or the other

i don’t mind these things because
they really don’t matter to me
i don’t mind because what’s in front of my eyes
i don’t mind because you don’t mind or matter
i don’t mind if it goes unnoticed

because it doesn’t really matter to me
because it doesn’t really matter to me
wonder how i tie my shoes tight today
wonder how i feel at 5 pm getting out
i wonder why they waste their time

wonder if the hurricane will drown us all
wonder if it cares about looks or ideas or groups
wonder if my shirt fits my chest right
wonder if the astroid blocked the sun
and with stupid glee and glasses we watched

August 19, 2017

hey, relax!

doing nothing is my god
watching the barometer’s metal bend
chasing words on a page
some milk goes sour
in time for the weather to come contradictive itself,
taste the notes of the coffee
some cheap shite, trash, yum, reflect…
my ecology is paycheck-to-paycheck, not endemic.
presuppose your days and ways,
the window fogs and steams, smeared.
shower tiles beads dew uncountable, attrition, music.
doing nothing is my god, our god, friend:
i worship, i love, and i don’t.
shoot the gap, you have the weekend!
i tell you secular and say “bless you” at a sneeze, really? ūüėČ
but work and leisure, two things;
what is the difference, don’t expound…
like those in a poetry workshop or modern English course,
i say nothing, do nothing, my god…
and of the apathetic sort.
Waiting for God-ot, nothing to do at all.
probably you haven’t read… because you don’t.
just like everyone else with the same ideas;
having the same idea is not diverse or unique.
what is god? she or he or preferred pronoun
is doing nothing too, a lot of it,
and getting praise worthy credit as well, dammit.
so, i’ll be here with my feet up high, relax.
you can worry about it for me.
i ain’t got much time, then pine box.

August 16, 2017

Dying symbolism and passing theory 

Crumpled symbolism making it better in its descend to the grassy ground, I wonder about stopping something with that something and if it works out OK, Lorde, truly. Cellphone videos of fists and kicking, “peaceful”.  Lines crossed.  Helmets are weapons today. Comedians got one joke now. One Nation apart, distancing tomorrow.  Ruined sheets. Egotistical egos. Hateful hate. Misappropriated tiki torches. Bad pants and industrial haircuts. Worse ideas. The days of just being ten fingers and eyes open and happy and content and broke and not concerned; the days of counting down to the alarm’s alarming, counting on something, to the dry desert flooded by hopeful theory and new belief. Cast away religion and makeup and history and what you were before. There is no news, same old.  Different focus today. Something about under the sun. Who doesn’t want more, can i see a show of hands?  Notice me too. Not that sign! to change the mind and find no pleasure in no appeasements, no pleasing the cannot be pleased. Straw-man, Instagram wants me back and I want peace and world love and for everyone to just dance hand in hand again because we love each other and we want something better, or what used to be a dream.  

August 13, 2017

what my wife thinks about what you think about what i write and a blurb about the whaling industry from In the Heart of the Sea

on a candlelit porch my wife implored, inspired and went on
why do you care about what they think?
why do you care about what they think of what you write?
it has nothing to do with them, what you think or compose…
looking for spermaceti candles and fate meaning, i.

reflecting, Nantucket sent those to gather Port Royal Toms to eat
without a thought but hunger; left virgin islands storied infernos,
thought about that and words and writing and language
on a porch serene treasure, old books, good love…
what do you think? wait, nevermind.

bubbling up, i recall her burnt hand expressing white temperatures
on clear glass, how it changes so fast and silence and police scanner siren;
dropping my whisky for a similar purpose; icing thumb: and scroll go.
watching the blue grass grow, not much to see here,
coo-coo clocks and barometers and books of ships and screens
that do keep us safe from what’s out there far away, calling a din.

July 26, 2017

Conversation with Dan 

Daniel says there will be a student debt bubble, i dont necessarily agree; students are always in store. I am telling him about faked passports and ICE and he tells me of international dogs flying. 

July 23, 2017

if monsters could leave the city

oh tru morning between aging cof
fee and covfefe and chuck dick,
one resignation away from a full deck,
and the meeting the Washington press
people who are good actors–
i mean really fucking good actors,
for saying things like fair and
balanced like a fat thumb on
the honest scale but it doesnt matter.
not like the gamma rays cutting,
not like a baby bouncing new teeth
through the clouds haloing above
the old trees and cut grass: lawn boy:
a broken pinion and the late sunday paper.
more gas on the ground than in it,
more save the world than wtf? locally
heard a domestic disturbance yesterday,
saw someone stealing a mainstreet car.
i suppose if i dont shave
the people who i teach in China wont care
probably wont notice beyond my American smile…
coffee again, father john misty again;
i like the art on the vinyl.
car parked in our odd garage.
monday take out our hot garbage.
so many movements to make,
only got to make movements.
i want to take the time to watch the snake
eat itself slowly as they say bye bye Betsy–
to hear her say she wont have it,
and i think what does
she think of party-made monster,
probably should get through Frankenstein,
probably should hideout somewhere.
or like a scapegoat leave the country.
if monsters could leave the city.

July 10, 2017

saint paul / perfect evening

no stir in the hot trees
a confetti kite hung resting strung
a wave from a man in a yard
plotting with his finger and his wife
not spilling coffee ice &
milk at 8 O’clock PM at night
on a monday night, outside– just,
then back on 3 wheels, he reels,
up Hamline, let’s turn
off Van Buren by Jon’s–get a cut,
laundry dripping water from AC, lucky…
i want to teach again
i want to volunteer and tutor
up at Hamline/Midway
watch poets try to sell books in a library
like watching god sell souls to the devil;
there is something ironic here
and there is something secular here…
mistaking the beans for leaves
Diane is outside watering plants
in her night gown
eating ice cream on a stick,
talking about the green beans we got her
from the farmer’s market last weekend,
garden hose in hand
batting mosquitoes–yuck! shes says…
the cat slips out and nothing happens…
Jana from Breaking The News sees my point…
i water some of my tomatoes too
what a night, nothing better
tweet about how you should walk outside NOW
in Saint Paul somewhere MN outdoors
like canoes chained to trees in Stillwater
up Manning then a right on Nolan then…
waiting for a drink
waiting for a lock pick and key
waiting for this walk again
and the trees stood still
same kite same in the same tree still
we got another year here;
the ink will never dry cause it never was