- Someone tweeted about an asshole Wisconsin governor whose name puts this album in my head.
- Waiting on Papa.
- M said over pints last night, Democrats, and I said, yup.
- I said, I am going to work until I die. I've paid into Social Security for 40 years, my benefits will be stolen, and all the money I've put into retirement accounts will be stolen.
- I said to M, by the time the Clusterfuckerers have wrung all they can out of Trump before they shoot him in back of skull and dump him in a ditch they'll have written a law that allows banks to collect exorbitant monthly rent out of my completely paid-off house, and when I'm a day late once they'll foreclose.
- There's a reason every post but two a year are tagged My Complicity.
- M said, Democrats, and I said, our fault.
- Earth-shattering humbug.
- Surly, they slipped the bonds of earth.
- Just the facts.
- Anyone heard (or has anyone read) about this? Was on new book cart.
- I didn't write about it after the Pere Ubu show a few weeks back - and Thomas has looked like a walking heart attack the last four shows I've seen - but he looked dangerously weak and fatigued, and he hasn't the wind for his voice anymore, and the rate folks are falling I expect the RIP post sometime soon.
- George died sixteen years ago yesterday.
- Lots of Tommy Keene on Belock's show Monday past.
- That A&C song below in my head at three this morning, been there since.
- Yo La Tengo playing DC on April 4 2018! I'm guessing I won't see you there.
Consider the toucan’s festive gold breast.
Its multicolored pecker, oddly cutesy
& perhaps, a cartoon-comfort
to the gym-roped Westerners
reclining on a beach in Costa Rica.
It’s the same old song: good-natured
smile, hard work, a hat’s off kind
of attitude & before you can say
post-racial, you’re a Resort Toucan.
The benefits are room & board
but the cost is blood. Most times
it’s the closest ones—birds
of the same rainforest, same
quadrant, same tree—who give up
your whereabouts to the jaguar.
Quick as you got the gig, the boss
is tossing you out on your ass
all over some flipped umbrellas
& a tourist’s scarfed thumb. So now
you’re roofless, alone, vulnerable
& the beast is licking his chops
in your mirrored aviators. Stifling
too is the Midwestern Subdivision
in its treatment of the black squirrel.
Science tells us black squirrels
have driven out native grey squirrels
in numerous areas, but no bullshit
in my development, black squirrels
are relegated to lots with a view
of the highway. Mornings
they work shade for acorns
between homes narrow as Lincoln Logs.
History tells us black squirrels
can’t afford robust landscaping
but will pay their mortgage—
chair the neighborhood watch
if you like. Slenderizing, their night
of hair. They’re sun’s prey.
They avoid overexposure, make tanning
trend. Black squirrels
they fit in, get along. Know no one.
They see other black squirrels & run.