Sunday, November 29, 2020

to ask more from some incompetent..... laughs

  • Poor rural whites are dying of covid while denying the disease exists (apathy is a disease) and BlackRock enjoys a profitable pandemic
  • I think the health threat real but I've an 88 year old father, I work at a university, my wife and daughter are public school teachers, I worry the worse-case simultaneously aware of the work
  • I'm positive our shitlords have been, are, and will continue to monetize this plague (and employ the most brilliant and hopefully (for them) equally amoral actuaries, algorithmists, accountants, and assholes to study the current plague for more squeezable drops of blood, yes, but more to learn how to monetize the next plague better). Perhaps I've mentioned this in like sentences before.



We drove to Bucklodge Conservancy Friday and Little Bennett yesterday, we exit 270 north at Maryland 121, Exit 18, Clarksburg for both, on the west side of northbound 270 in Clarksburg is an outlet store eyesore and disgrace (but not as big a disgrace as what developers have done to and worse have planned for beautiful rolling farm land), the parking lots were full both days, the line to exit onto 121 south towards the outlets backed up almost to 270, and getting onto 270 south on way home we could see the outlet's poorly designed and worse executed roundabouts jammed and blocking through traffic, of course, I think of that same song too every time, that's Little Bennett above and below, I found Earthgirl's trolls she'd enshrined in a tree knob on Tobacco Farm Trail at Little Bennett about six months ago, missing a month ago, I saw what looked like cotton candy at tree bottom, tiny happy needed miracle, both reinstalled




Ed Roberson

On sonnet form

times even in the grip of  trouble
get no less a sunrise than sun is capable
the capable beauty all we have
to expect—     to ask more from some incompetent   laughs

at the proposition          we have trumped all that
from such horses as
we have     pulling our wagon through the dust
which we   ourselves yoked to the lead     that trust—

people of  the voice though we were.
people who cannot figure
what it is we want to say  for us—

if  all we have is the form to stuff
as the end      then any poem of the times comes up
capable as shining.     shining or not.     enveloped.


  1. Would you blame one of us hillbillies for dying from the flu?

    1. I said "and" not "or." Not one without the other.

  2. Cool about your complicity at C4SS. There's this Eno doc from '73 that's been on the Yootoob for a couple of weeks. I'd seen it hovering for a while but ignored it because I thought I'd seen everything, and I'd read the diary from '90-'91 as well. I finally watched it and couldn't believe all the great interview material (much different detail on a couple of stories I'd known from a 24-year-old, studio footage one'd be sure to have seen had it existed, which also adds aural context with the player featured in the studio being higher in the mix than on record, and much of a Roxy version of Remake/Remodel I'd never seen before (similar but not the same).

  3. i lived in a town in appalachia for several years -
    i moved there from new york state

    soon after i got there i was told about the difference between a yankee and a damn yankee

    eventually i moved to a more northern state