Saturday, January 21, 2017

Why, of course one noticed













 Went out in the car
 at lunchtime, and the
 radio was full of strange
 noises on all the stations.
 Then I remembered, that's how
 they do it, when we're supposed
 to be coerced.


























Jannis Beck







Friday, January 20, 2017

It's a raid




    We do not greet a new administration
    in the intended, or even in the cus-
    tomary sense of that institutional
    term. There is to be nothing adminis-
    trative about it. We greet a sophis-
    ticated, advanced and implacable com-
    bination, to exploit this world by
    intimidation and humiliation, in bi-
    lateral axes of expediency and cynic-
    ism. That transposition fatally ex-
    tinguishes the lavish estate of com-
    mon ground, the magnanimous Mitch Mc-
    Connell opened to the only legitimate
    President in the last three regimes.

    There can be no purpose but resistance.
    This is the shelter, the rest for love.
    





















Vojtech Kunes






Thursday, January 19, 2017

Holding







          People are pairing off
          for the shelter before
          they can remember only
          the latest siren tweet.
          




















Time After Time
Sammy Cahn & Jule Styne, 1947
Chet Baker
Blue Note, 1954
EMI, 2007©






Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Beyond category


If I remember Ellington,
with whom this expression
is very fondly associated,
it's Billy Strayhorn who
comes to mind; if I honor
Martin Luther King, Jr, 
I'm not forgetting Bayard
Rustin; when I was a boy,
James Baldwin was writing
stories I needed to hear.

I'm glad as hell, I lived
in my time with such men.





   And to see,
   the weather
   fall upon a
   man's faith
   without any
   consequence
   it expects,
   has been to
   acquire it. 
   We're here.
   
   










   




















Damon Winter
  Barack Obama
  Glen Allen, Virginia
  October, 2008
The New York Times, 2008©

Giuseppe Verdi
Nabucco
  III, ii
  Va' pensiero
1841-42









   

The West Bank and I





I realize, of course, snarks will
impugn my sincerity in this dis-
cussion, for an impudence of con-
fiding one's thoughts from the
dressing room. I remark from this
setting only to convey some sense
of the ubiquity of experience in-
vaded by one's pre-occupation,
with any risk of post-Occupation,
of such a casino-rich slash of
desert, simply seething for de-
velopment. But, again, I stray.
We are not Bugsy - er, I mean,
Benny - in making a living. We
use governments for wet work.
Now we're really getting one.




velopment of the West Bank - my in-
defatigable bankruptcy attorney -
is not that he knows who's butter-
ing his bread, but that he defers
to the next generation, as in hust-
ling my dearest flamingo past the
tacky scribes at Federal Court.




Oh, what selflessness! What Polon-
ial footing in the back stairs of 
a bondholder's intrigue. Fate must 
thus distill a conspicuous, ex- 
quisitely lingering unraveling of 
his reputation, as soon as it can 
be found, draped behind my promises.

























ii   David Friedman, Esq.
      United States District Court
      New Jersey, 2010
      Bloomberg News©


William Shakespeare
Hamlet
  IV, iii
1600