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threats

this fiction of mine laboured tightly in the skull of memories and mysteries worked to the wheel by furies who deal the willing thread in...

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

i love america # 45

(jackie cogan in a lowlife dive)

there is no abridging the freedom of the press    
it´s in the first amendment                     
among the other liberties it protects -speech 
religion ans its practice petition and assembly- 
it´s all there plainly stated                      
to prevent any interference censorship            
meddling from trendy fascists                   
extant communists assorted arseholes              
all enemies of american democracy i´m telling you 

well this is the we told you so presidency
the dawn of the dead brains madly chasing
after a neurological disaster
so it´s finally happening...
it was always there under thin skin 

there´s a crazy uncle under every roof
we shall know in due time the whole story
the pre and after with all the slimy details
and how the gop just watched the bases turn
to the demagogue as if some banana republic
yes we became ecuador with nukes following
around an orange chimp the don     

due excuses given to the color orange 
all dons and chimps mind you

yeah right but this country is fucked             
i´m telling you...now we have 
a bigoted bully in the white house 
with no convictions outside of narcissim 
and nativism racism and sexism 
his life public and otherwise 
is full of racist slurs and acts...
and he is a functional illiterate 
doing the fuhrer by the numbers
a real piece of work


On July 20, A. G. Sulzberger, the Times’ publisher and James Bennet, the editor of the Times’ editorial page, met with Trump at the White House, according to Eileen Murphy, spokeswoman for the Times. Though Trump’s aides requested the meeting be off the record, Trump’s tweet Sunday put the meeting “on the record,” allowing for Sulzberger to respond, said Murphy.

The tweet

Had a very good and interesting meeting at the White House with A.G. Sulzberger, Publisher of the New York Times. Spent much time talking about the vast amounts of Fake News being put out by the media & how that Fake News has morphed into phrase, “Enemy of the People.” Sad!

The response

My main purpose for accepting the meeting was to raise concerns about the president´s deeply troubling anti-press rhetoric.
I told the president directly that I thought that his language was not just divisive but increasingly dangerous.
I told him that although the phrase ´´fake news´´ is untrue and harmful, I am far more concerned about his labeling journalists ´´the enemy of the people.´´  I warned that this inflammatory language is contributing to a rise in threats against journalists and will lead to violence.
I repeatedly stressed that is particularly true abroad, where the president´s rhetoric is being used by some regimes to justify sweeping crackdowns on journalists.  I warned that it was putting lives at risk, that it was undermining the democratic ideals of our nation, and that it was eroding one of our country´s greatest exports: a commitment to free speech and a free press.
Throughout the conversation I emphasized that if President Trump, like previous presidents, was upset with coverage of his administration he was of course free to tell the world.  I made clear repeatedly that I was not asking for him to soften his attacks on The Times if he felt our coverage was unfair.  Instead, I implored him to reconsider his broader attacks on journalism, which I believe are dangerous and harmful to our country.




i still can´t believe all that´s happening

listen counselor like i said before
i´m living in America
and in America you are on your own
America is not a country it´s just a business
drink up





Tuesday, March 15, 2016

six six six...i got nothing


six six six  
i got nothing _and thinking
there was commotion from the street
murmurings muttered chanting in the air
i raced the window sill triumphant 
at the persiennes i lurched the void 
from the waist intent on truth or dare

it was hell´s bells 
a fantastic venture it was
a procession of tropical proportions
the cathedral bells began ring a ding dong
i saw mother ambling there
under black veils her red hair
and larger than life a statue on a cart
stage blood for the christ in distress
el señor de la patada _the given name
suffers the earthly divine has no concern
yes those were the days my friend
i´d crown myself with thorns regularly
and i always prevailed

it was a long long long time ago
when fear was affixed at the wheel
reason was left out of the deal
was it not father who told us so
he said this is the score fear not 
but fear was at the core
we receded into ideas false
and false ideals were conceived
they were utter nonsense
we did not know the score
we knew fear
it was our source
we had to make some kind of sense
of the unknown _so we made it up

we are all one
feel
keep on gonging
find scores in old records stores
we all have been kangaroo kourted
anything severed from the body
may be saved cryogenically
talking about cocks hands heads?
we shall need an agent that we
may wield otherwordly powers 
still thinking trash 
we beg off release 
this is how i play 
anger over sarcasm rudeness brutality
sound the shofar eat a round challah
in-a-minute is never now
try and juggle all the balls
play on our finiteness
oh such radical a condition…


Monday, June 22, 2015

some songs have no words


some songs have no words
some have no name
jojo crafts walls of them pieces tumult
and clamor scores backdrops for blasts
some girls have no songs
no récipes no instructions
we have to sob tons find charmwords
to spread it on fawn cajole woo them 
in the midnight hour for sure
it´s every teenager burden and call

precisely were you 18
when dawn found you on the stairs
of the fire-escape in back of the house
-waiting on the sunrise you said- then
she held you least you´d fall or worst
and the day turned blindingly sunny 
next she gave herself away helpless
and you were in the snare caught
and hardup to meet the girl in question
who absently said any ol´song was just
fine and the verse was as good as it gets
the blanks were blown and revealed
meaninglessness...their worth  _zero
and you entered that instant ethos
colored fulfilling the promise of flesh
neon signs at rest now buses parade
and you longed for her at midday
covered with detritus of sex
emotions alone
and awake with a notion of something
amiss amidst thunder outbursts
your brain crashes the walls
rocks hurl into the sun
invaders of the heart fly the breeze
the dub bass reverb resets your head
a factory yard the lane leading to it
the gate you shake your head 2015
times and times with no end await
the solder kit to frame dissonant
refrains clangor roarwaves
for the trashers the sailors the clerks
masons atomizer in hand get an earful
of noise sounds from circuit bending
jojo knows no best way


Tuesday, October 21, 2014

from the today pieces


early this morning i stood at a crossroads
one went north one went south one went east
and one went into the alley of death
the itch and tarzan were on the corner
in cheerful talk about boys on the lam
though they were ill the itch was wet
his broken eyebrow had been patched up
while tarzan fell off the tree his pants
are baggier still and his eyes are darkening

then a pirate cab went by like a flash
the eyes of a woman set memories tripping
as she turned to look back in recognition
and smiled fading rapidly in the rear glass
i crossed the street and went into the alley

Monday, October 20, 2014

allentown...shouting from a summer blow


dark cut loose wild over allentown
shouting from a summer blow
in the evening come with bugs and buggers
a brawl rushed onto the crowded sidewalk
quick to make room and ready
for the kill of one crimson clown
it all started at the billiard table in mulligan’s
when pr lester figured out brilliantly
how to go through someone’s purse unnoticed
then he had to roll for his life kicked
in the gutter banged _cue ball on a break_
something like a petard sounding from a side
street set everyone on a freeze and running
runaway shadows scattering as balls breaking
one body lay still

a dirge rose to the occasion warm and rogue
while some kid was led away by the police
everyone stood intent on the dream darkening
(
they racked up in the chevy
hit the expressway on cue with the sunset
as the radio blasted trash
and with shades of disgust splat on their faces
but it was fear confusion and despair also
nothing to make way in the shadows
but the headlights from a caprice speeding
loaded with a cast to kill

Sunday, October 19, 2014

nauseated


may we assume wrongfully 
and interpret poorly the absurd 
in our actions...oh civilization
we are full of facts of life meaningless
_we made them up in darkness and fear_
the phrases spell all and nothing
they are substantial and insignificant
it’s extreme pettiness or grandeur to mask
the trifling ridiculously silly beliefs in full

the bit set in long tall buildings with arches
banners and flags crowning their tops
statues and gargoyles in strategic places
support for much shadow and occasional clouds
the pope in yellow flips and puts on a veil
and it’s reality versus reality interacting
announcing modifying postponing fuckitall
robin williams on the score perfect casting
for pere ubu but we’ll never know

go find imaginary solutions in trees hanged
in harmony with satisfying coloring and economy
of detail diverse material for de sade’s portrait
back to being to be sickened by it
its bare detail moving the beholder on contact
the range from choice to chance
daniel deranged matthew delighted
to die on a rooftop was not his decision
nor was it to die _it comes naturally_
but once with reason handy 
it became a sure option
he could become his own child
dictate sentence on his own being
define his existence then and there
or at any bloody given moment
thus he chose to go along 
but circumstances placed him on that roof
and climax he would reach in a hail of bullets