Thoughts of the Week

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Mantra for Artists

Figure out the best thing you can share with the world. Then figure out the best way to share it. The road is long, so long that it never really ends at a final destination. Your job is to stay on the path. Authentic humility requires acknowledging that you are gifted and touched by the...

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Leadership Litmus Test for White Boys Who R Considering Voting for Hillary When the Rainbow Coalition Isn’t Enuf

Some of our more famously progressive friends — those who self-identify as conscious, liberal, rights-minded pacifists, including “smartest man in the world” comedian Greg Proops – are presently in a political pickle. They’ve pre-declared themselves as Soldiers for Hillary, despite so many stains upon her record you might be persuaded that she was a key...

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Poem: Hollow Reed

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   Now I’m a hollow reed through which the divine may flow unimpeded using my brain and body however needed to communicate the ineffable to ruminate on the unknowable and unguessable, Like why men fear the uterus. Like, who will teach and tutor us? Like ludicrously laughable lyrics...

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Poem: Invisible

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   The powerless feel invisible. A ghostly cipher jigs and shimmies, sending up flares, announcing the Annunciation.   The powerful seek invisibility. A malevolent cloud overhangs and shrouds, secreted in cracks, hidden from the light.   We evaporate and expectorate and obviate. No one sees everything.

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Poem: Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   We returned to each other, after a protracted absence of voluntary volubleness. We picked up the thread where it had been dropped, enmeshed in other narratives. The bicycle dance has not yet begun. The delectable debate over all that matters most or least will come. Maybe...

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Poem: Your King

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   As we embraced, you called out maharaja and I understood for a moment, this moment, the one that wasn’t before, I was your king.  

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Poem: Facts

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   These are not theories, conjecture, reckless reckoning, supposition, hyperbolic hypotheses crooked as a triangle untangled by Isosceles. These are facts. Yet many of us prefer to pretend instead that the precise contrary is not a fairy tale but a fairly stale debate over which the irrational...

Ukraine WikiLeaks 0

Poem: That Time of Day

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   It’s that time of day, when military gunship helicopters come out to play supplanting finches, towhees, sparrows with rotors roaring over urban gardeners with hearts-a-soaring, proletariat peasants ignoring our deplorable genetics, our feeble marrows, cryptic codes prophesizing a frenetic fate, a Golden Plate that cannot obviate the sordid truth:...

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Poem: Our Sober Friend

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   What’s the point of being sober, he wondered if you still behave like a narcissistic drunk? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone, including him, if nothing really changes or changed? He could stay rooted in the toxic swamp that fed him amply, bloating his self-loathing to...

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Poem: Runners

The 2015 MK Spring Poetry Festival, April 20-30   When you’re paranoid schizophrenic bi-polar crazy, living by day at bus stops and sleeping at night nobody knows where, getting normal folks to listen, to pay attention to the truth of your Truth, is almost as hard as keeping yourself clean.   Property owners. Cars, houses,...