- Obamapostasy yet? I said to my disenchanted Democratic stalwart friend at impromptu Tuesday Night Pints and she said yes, he'd, she said, campaign for Trump against Bernie wouldn't he.
- If you don't want to our overlords freaking the fuck out when Bernie is up by 20 on November 1 2020 the fuck is wrong with you.
- Trump is crackerbait, I said, Obama is the motherfucking enemy
- A good time was had
- Obamagasms never-ending
- Same as it ever was
- American infantilism
- Smart stupid people
- Slowest five days of the Blegsylvanian year starts.... now, so if I'm ever gonna bleggalgaze (or write about here what I don't write about here, like today's The Fuck?) it'll be soon or next year's five slowest days or...
- The no-alternative bullshit
- Dark wood
- the conditions of our creativity
- That's entertainment
THE YEAR BEFORE THE ELECTION
It was a time when all the poets
seemed to be dying, my favorites
and a few I couldn’t bear.
I folded back everything I knew
into everything I thought I knew
until I was a man living in a world
of his own crazy postponements.
The weather there was calm,
then tempestuous, then calm again,
an inner weather I felt at the mercy of.
A good friend dropped out of my life
without explanation, wouldn’t answer
my letters or phone calls. A woman
wrote to me saying she was sorry;
I had no idea who she was.
Only a few of the now-dead poets
committed suicide, or drank themselves
into oblivion. Their deaths were blamed
on natural causes. What could be stranger?
A prolonged silence began. In the past
that might have meant an important conversation
was about to occur. It had, I was told,
but hardly any of us were ready to hear it.