A Giant Breathing Cell Exhaling Its Waste

Still have zero desire to play POTUS 12 (much less the next gnashing of motherfucking congressional chicken). I do feel like playing some John Coltrane, who two DJs told me was born 85 years ago yesterday, a song one of them played.






Hey, did you know Washington DC has a professional soccer team?

• It's true! and run, mekcufrehtor.
• I wonder if DeRossario gacked the PK out of guilt, purposely or not.
• I wish Rush Limbaugh was right about Elizabeth Warren.
• Profoundly stupid. Call me when any senior Democrat with power calls motherfucking lying cracker-baiters motherfucking lying cracker-baiters.
• On the above.
• Here's another Overlord getting it half right.
• Which doesn't mean Hred Fiatt isn't profoundly mendacious.
• Hred Fiatt's proxy tells you to leave millionaires alone. 
• Corporate.
• Corporate.
• Hide your sheep. 
• Goats in trees.
• His if he wants it.
• Casinos.
• Serendipitously, days after I post a Bukowski poem, Bukowski.
• Yes, yes I have used today's poem before. I like it. 
• Yes, yes I have played the song below the poem many times, it's been a month's theme song at least once, and I like it (I like Wire) alone but really like it with that poem in this particular post.
• I remember liking (if I don't remember) a few Whiskeytown songs, and I always liked this song's reverb (though it's two minutes too long), and I remember when Ryan Adams was going to be a superstar.
• Woke up with this in my head:

MEAT

August Kleinzahler

How much meat moves
Into the city each night
The decks of its bridges tremble
In the liquefaction of sodium light
And the moon a chemical orange

Semitrailers strain their axles
Shivering as they take the long curve
Over warehouses and lofts
The wilderness of streets below
The mesh of it
With Joe on the front stoop smoking
And Louise on the phone with her mother

Out of the haze of industrial meadows
They arrive, numberless
Hauling tons of dead lamb
Bone and flesh and offal
Miles to the ports and channels
Of the city's shimmering membrane
A giant breathing cell
Exhaling its waste
From the stacks by the river
And feeding through the night