- Napoleon still loves his sardines even syruped now in painkiller for his hips and antibiotic for his still-not totally healed neck wound, the earliest cardiologist appointment I can get is March
- and helmetball fans don't like when I rag on helmetball and call out their complicity of helmetball, helmetball the greatest finest metaphor abounding for motherfucking America, I understand why you watch, I don't watch but I watch you watch, we're both weird
- Reminder: DMV is a Washington Helmetball Team town, always was, could be again, fuck the Nats, fuck the Bullets, fuck whatever the ice-soccer team is called, it's a Helmetball Team town, people can vouch, for giggles I houred DC's sports radio stations the day after the Exslurs beat the previously undefeated Yinzers, Super Bowl is not out of the realm of possibility of a sudden, mouth-breathed the radio yakkers, fine metaphors abound
- I read Uni-Watch every day. RIP, Dick Allen (when my step-father-in-law died I lost a good guy and the last guy I could call Dick to his face and he'd smile), who should be in the Hall of Fame, fine metaphors abound re Dick Allen re my reading Uni-Watch every day
- It comes down to this: yes HOA, no buy / no HOA, yes buy
- Rest in Peace Harold Budd
- On hating Trump: If the noxious and ruinous Trump is the heart of evil in our time and place, the dragon that conquered the mountain of treasure on which he luxuriates, I’m a lowly crow picking at the offal he left behind in reaching that summit.
- Schizoanalysis versus Capitalism
- In Capitalist America optimism drinks you
- We will never decarbonize
- Standard operating procedure: As has become the standard ritual for Biden’s cabinet picks, the mass media are holding a parade to celebrate the fact that Austin would be the first Black chief of the US war machine while virtually ignoring the murderous agendas he has facilitated throughout his career. As head of Central Command Austin actively campaigned to resurrect the Pentagon’s spectacularly failed program of trying to arm “rebels” in Syria to fight ISIS, and in 2014 he backed immunity for US troops from war crimes prosecutions by the government of Afghanistan. He helped spearhead the Iraq invasion, and he is a member of the same private equity fund which invests in defense contractors as Flournoy and Biden’s warmongering pick for Secretary of State Tony Blinken.
- Democrats and the depravity of law
- Divide, conquer, stay rich
- Kill the poor
- A bleggalgaze (not mine)
- Forty years ago last night I was tripping with a girlfriend when the news broke of Lennon's assassination
- James Tate born 77 years ago yesterday, I didn't forget
- On Robbie Basho
My little finger’s stuck in a
Coca-Cola bottle and I’ve got three
red checkers lodged in my watchpocket.
In a rush to meet my angel, now
I don’t even know who my angel was.
I can see seven crimson jeeps lined up
outside Pigboy’s Barbecue Shack—
must be a napkin salesmen’s convention.
I don’t care what cargo as long as
their hats are back on by eleven.
The thing I’m trying to avoid
is talking to my mule about glue futures.
What’s a fellow going to do? I must
have a ceiling fan, I can’t postpone
twirling blades. And my one stuffed chair
was owned by a hunchback for a hundred years
before I came along. I need some new
knickknacks to suggest an air of cleanliness
to this sluggish pit of extinct sweet potatoes.
Ah, trickery, you sassy lark, withered black pearl,
unfetter me from these latches, make me
the Director at every meatball’s burial,
lacerate this too, too static air
I’ve been eating my way through.
I lunch on eels and larks in lemonade, Lord,
I’m so happy I woke up in my right mind today.
And those kleptomaniacs, Smitty and Bob,
stole peanuts from a hunchback, snuff from an angel.
My knees click, I won’t budge, like a wind-up toy
unwound, my guitar held tightly between my thighs.
Last night a clam fell from the stars:
a festive, if slippery occasion, a vibrating blob
entered our midst—I say “ours” out of some need—
I was alone when it hit me.