- Lindsay Buckingham is 66 today. Forgive me, I love some of Buckingham's Mac songs and most of Buckingham's solo songs.
- We were in Politics and Prose last night. As I walked in I recognized the voice on the PA system - Robert Reich was promoting his new book, Saving Capitalism. He finished his presentation (he believes in America, believes Americans will rise to the occasion to defeat big money's political dominance because "it's what Americans do, what they've done before") and then solicited questions. The first: "If asked, will you serve in a Sander's cabinet?" Reich danced around the answer of course. We were there for maybe half an hour. Reich bemoaned Citizens United and praised Bernie Sanders for making his one litmus test for SCOTUS nominees that candidates support for overturning Citizens United. He was asked about Tea Partiers (despite their inclination to populist fascism they share some of the anti-big money sentiment of more enlightened progressives) and about engaging a new generation or progressives (something about his sons), but in the entire half an hour there, he never mentioned Inevitability nor was asked about Inevitability.
- Inevitability defends big banks for 2008 crisis.
- Dark laughter.
- Das Buddelschiffgesprach.
- Three C.K. Williams poems (plus more).
- Road-tripping with Denise McCluggage.
- The Confession of St Jim-Ralph.
I don’t know somehow it seems sufficient
to see and hear whatever coming and going is,
losing the self to the victory
of stones and trees,
of bending sandpit lakes, crescent
round groves of dwarf pine:
for it is not so much to know the self
as to know it as it is known
by galaxy and cedar cone,
as if birth had never found it
and death could never end it:
the swamp’s slow water comes
down Gravelly Run fanning the long
hair and narrowing roils between
the shoulders of the highway bridge:
holly grows on the banks in the woods there,
and the cedars’ gothic-clustered
spires could make
green religion in winter bones:
so I look and reflect, but the air’s glass
jail seals each thing in its entity:
no use to make any philosophies here:
I see no
god in the holly, hear no song from
the snowbroken weeds: Hegel is not the winter
yellow in the pines: the sunlight has never
heard of trees: surrendered self among
unwelcoming forms: stranger,
hoist your burdens, get on down the road.