how pleased I am that I was able to get the damn PC up and running.

Although I’m a pretty experienced computer user, the thought of actually diving into the bowels of DOS usually makes me shiver.

Nonetheless, that’s what I did to deal with a conflict that was making the whole thing lock up on start up.

Using Annie’s laptop, I got some info from a bulletin board and tried a number of things, working from safe mode to start and then getting into actual DOS stuff…and it worked!

I feel accomplished…it also makes me really, REALLY want to go back to my Mac, which never had these problems.

Maybe I’ll look around for a cheap older iBook for myself as a back-up — got too much invested in the desktop to totally dump it, and Anne prefers Windows (although she initially got me hooked on Macs, go figure) so we’ll always have at least one around.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Starting to book features again — got to get back to DC/Baltimore in the next day or two to get that settled; there’s a NYC thing floating around out there to nail down, need to finalize a Cantab date, and I’ve got to settle the Catskills Folk/Poetry Festival details.

I do have a Westfield MA gig coming up in May as well.

Ought to book myself a few around Worcester, eh?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Off to meetings — more later. (I’m busy as hell lately.)

on the most recent poem. I made a few edits, but I’m gonna wait on more significant changes until after I do it this Sunday at the Hut. Need to taste it.

My PC at home is screwed, so I won’t be on much for the next few days until I get it taken care of…ditto if you’ve sent me e-mail; I only have limited access here at work.

Back soon, I hope — off to meetings.

on the most recent poem. I made a few edits, but I’m gonna wait on more significant changes until after I do it this Sunday at the Hut. Need to taste it.

My PC at home is screwed, so I won’t be on much for the next few days until I get it taken care of…ditto if you’ve sent me e-mail; I only have limited access here at work.

Back soon, I hope — off to meetings.

For everyone who finds spring less than completely hopeful.

DIALOGUE

I tell her,

late winter and early spring can
really take a toll on your
optimism and belief in sweat equity: you survived
this long by expecting you’ll get relief
for making it through
the dark months. that’s

arrogant, she says; all you can
hope for is that you’ll
keep breathing
until the wind turns
lukewarm.

I respond that days like this
can hurt worse than february’s worst
knife. just as the crocus starts to pierce through,
you give up and admit that you long for bloodshed,
a drunken fight in a dive bar,
or a sudden burst of deadly lust
that carries you into a strange bed through a broken
window and from there into oblivion; every bad impulse
to self-immolation breaks out as if you were
a ruptured pod. but

it’s not self-pity, she says,
to describe a heart as broken
if it is broken, a fallen hope as
fallen if it has yet to hit the
ground; what you don’t get to do, she says,
is marinate
in the description until
you’re tender.

I want to reach for her
and explain something
I don’t fully understand: that I think we are
not that far apart. all that bloodlust in me
is just a way of acting the same thing she is saying —
but
there are shadows among my fingers
that leave me cold. there are bones

hidden in my flesh that I’ve never noticed.
I’m afraid the sun
won’t ever break through to warm them.
if I try to touch her,
I may shatter.

These memes of late seem more intense, somehow…

Mark the ones true for you with an “x”.

(_) I never have been drunk
( ) I never have smoked pot
(_) I never have kissed a member of the opposite sex
( ) I never have kissed a member of the same sex
(X) I never crashed a friend’s car
(X) I never have been to Japan
(_) I never ridden in a taxi
(_) I never had anal sex
(_) I never have been in love
( ) I never had sex
( ) I never have had sex in public
(_) I never have been dumped
(_) I never shoplifted
(X) I never have been fired
(_) I never have been in a fistfight
(X) I never had a threesome
(_) I never snuck out of my parents’ house
(X) I never have been tied up
(X) I never have been caught masturbating
(_) I never pissed on myself
(X) I never pissed on someone else
(X) I never had sex with a member of the same sex
(_) I never have been arrested
(_) I never made out with a stranger
(X) I never stole something from my job
(X) I never celebrated New Year’s in Times Square
(_) I never went on a blind date
(_) I never lied to a friend
(X) I never had a crush on a teacher
(X) I never celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans
( ) I never have been to Europe
(_) I never skipped school
( ) I never slept with a co-worker
( ) I never cut myself on purpose
( ) I never had sex at the office
( ) I’ve never been married
(x) I’ve never been divorced (well…that’s complicated…)
( ) I never had sex with more than one person within the same week
(X) I never have posed nude (cough)
(x) I never got someone drunk just to have sex with them
(_) I never cheated on a significant other (ehhh, it’s a toss up)
(X) I never had sex with my boss
(X) I never have eaten snake meat
(X) I never jumped out of an airplane
(X) I have never been to a nudist event
( ) I never had a permanent residence outside of the state I was born in
(_) I never have ridden an elephant
(_) I have never made out with someone whose name I did not know at the time
(_) I have never had intercourse (anal or vaginal) without a condom.
( ) I never have smoked weed out of a beer can
(X) I never left someone at the altar
(x) I’ve never stalked someone.
(X) I never tried to blind someone
(_) I have never stripped someone against their will and thrown them out into public. (Long story.)
( ) I’ve never done a substance stronger than alchohol or weed
(_) I’ve never killed an animal or person on purpose.
(X) I’ve never had phone sex.
(X) I’v never been naked hot tubbing
(x) I’ve Never had sex with a horse!
(X) I’ve never watched cartoon porn
(_) I’ve never eaten a squirrel
(x) I’ve never been to africa
(_) I have never shaved my head
(_) I have never opened a keg before
(_) I have never vomitted with a distance of about 6 feet.
(X) I have never cussed out my boss, thrown my badge on the ground and stormed out screaming “I quit!”
(_) I have never eaten cat food.
(_) I have never used heroin.
—
(X) = You’ve never.
(_) = You have.
Add one of your own at the end.

I mean…aren’t we all?

You are… a chunk of meat!

Which random object are you? (Results contain pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

Normally I don’t take these things, but I’ve been on a tear lately.

You’d never know I’m also very busy at work right now — I’m doing a lot of Web research for a project, and jump over to this frequently to keep my interest up.

Fun SPEAK last night:

— theme was “sharp” which brought out all sorts of weird shit;

— I covered 3 poets from Texas in addition to doing “Cante Jondo”;

— We got everybody ready for the “SPEAK on the road” gig in the not at all far distant town of Mendon, MA on April 8, which will have the theme of “community”.

More later — including some observations on what makes SPEAK work as well as it does.

Old school punk! You just say what you have to say
regardless of what everyone else thinks!
You’re one of my most favourite types of
music… You’re raw and uncut! You’re
surrounded by hype…just don’t let it make you
go insane…

What genre of rock are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

But you know, there’s an important point raised by realsupergirl, which is that the choices offered did not include any bands fronted primarily or exclusively by women — no L7, no Sleater-Kinney, no Julie Ruin, no My Ruin, no Bratmobile.

I think it’s a legitimate point — I know that there are lots of people who listen to grrl bands almost exclusively. Certainly, that’s as much a “genre” as some of these other “genres”.

I know, I know — it’s just a fun thing, an online quiz I shouldn’t take so seriously.

Tough. She makes a good point.

One of the things I do here at work is run what is usually called “diversity training”, which generally means I get to tell a lot of people stuff they should already know.

Part of what I do in the class involves showing a video that is actually a series of black and white still photographs of people in various situations. The trainees record their reactions to the photographs so that we can then explore how subconscious stereotyping affects our perceptions.

They then see the photographs again; many of them have been cropped, so they get more information in the second go-round when they see the full image.

One of the photographs is of a white guy in a leather biker jacket, headband, longhair, mustache, unsmiling, clutching a length of chrome pipe in both hands.

During the discussion today, someone mentioned a photograph that had a guy holding “a gun”. (For the record, there is no gun in any photograph.)

I was confused. “Which one did you mean?” I asked. “You know, the one with the gun.”

Then someone else chimed in. “He means the first one — you know, where the guy was holding the pool cue.”

In a few minutes, I had people telling me about the “pool cue”, the “lead pipe”, the “crowbar”, and a couple more who insisted it was “a gun” in the biker’s hands.

They were all pretty shocked to discover that the uncropped photograph showed the guy holding the handle to a baby carriage.

Now, I know this is a staged setting, but it struck me how every image these good, thoughtful folks conjured up involved something that is typically associated with a use as a weapon.

And I wish I could tell you it was the first time it had happened. It wasn’t. It happens all the time. Almost every time, in fact, someone (and usually more than one) will identify that chrome tube as a deadly weapon of some sort. This was just the first time the word “gun” had come up.

If you see a threat, the threat will be there.

And it makes me shudder to think of how many more people will be shot — in our cities, in Iraq and Haiti, and who knows where else around this world — because people will see the threats they’ve been conditioned to see.

Couple of long days…

Lea Deschesnes was great tonight at the Hut — some of the best writing she’s ever done.

It was great to see Rachel and George McKibbens there — I’ve missed them.

Got a huge new poem on tap for you tomorrow, I think…stay tuned.

Slow morning at work, which I desperately need…

The last two days I’ve been running a training class here at work on basic management skills, development strategies, etc.

I am reminded, from time to time, that I sometimes have conflicts about what I do for a living.

I work for a Fortune 200 retail company that’s relatively benign — no pollutants, environmental chemicals, war profiteering, etc; issues related to Third World sweatshops and more complex economic justice do exist, but I work from within to deal with them here; and my job actually entails responsibility for working on issues of fair treatment for all employees and a special emphasis on what irritatingly is called “diversity training” which I think of as “not being an asshole to any of the people you manage”.

There are days when I get to play, like the last few days, with folks at all levels from brandy-new supervisors to recently hired senior executives (who are there for an understanding of company culture more than actual training). Sessions like that can be tough from trying to address the diverse needs of all these levels.

These last two days were, by contrast, excellent. Smart people, eager to learn, neither intimidated by nor overly impressed by titles and positions, who all got to work with each other and have great and interesting conversations.

Tiring, and long days indeed, but those are the times when I really wouldn’t trade this job for anything, including full time poetizing — I really think I’m one of those who needs another discipline to keep me from sticking my head too far up my own ass — or in an oven (see previous entry, heh heh…)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Switching subjects — I’m still feeling ok. The ability to manage my own meds in a limited window has made a huge difference in the side effects — I’m doing 600 mg of Lithium for two days and 900 for one, then back to 600 for two, etc. –and it seems to be working without affecting the therapeutic effects.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Finally getting back into self-promo mode — about to send inquiries to a couple of venues including the Nuyorican; also need to settle dates for DC/Baltimore tonight.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’m temporarily shelving Fugue State poems for the moment. I need more focused time I haven’t got right now. Still writing, but not these…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

OK…more later, maybe.

Those who know me well are likely howling right now.

You are Sylvia Plath! She committed suicide by
shoving her head in a gas oven.
Congratulations! She was mentally troubled
throughout her life, and toyed with the idea of
suicide many times. She wrote brilliant and
insightful poetry, although it was all
autobiographical; poor sylvia had a hard time
getting outside herself, and her connections
with members of the opposite sex were troubled
at best. She has been picked up since her
death in the early sixties as a champion of the
feminist cause.

Which famous poet are you? (pictures and many outcomes)
brought to you by Quizilla

Because — well, just because.

JULIE

Julie, I can see you better when I close my eyes.

You and I were never lovers
except for that one night we nearly were,
and that next night when we nearly admitted to the first night,
and that third night when we came as near to it as we ever did,
carefully sensing each other’s need as we danced, moving together like slow swans:
three nights worth remembering.

But then I recall
the night we were supposed to have dinner,
how I let the phone ring when you called,
how instead of picking up
I went on making love to our mutual friend;
I imagine you hanging up pissed off in your quiet way,
going to the bar, drinking just enough to get sleepy;
think of the car sailing off the road and coming to sudden rest;
think of you thrown from the bent Renault;
think of you embracing the tree instead of me,
of you growing cold by your car in the woods; and
no matter how many times I think of those things,
I can never think of why she and I decided
to stay together afterward, when all we were
was born in such betrayal.

Julie, I’m alone today, standing staring at your graven name
on a day that’s as dark and as grey as this stone.
It’s been twenty years since I was one of six
who carried your blonde coffin first up and then down the church steps.
I braced for that box to feel as leaden as I felt,
but when it felt empty, I drew deep into myself
and stayed there —
and now, somewhere outside my black hole,
outside this place where I can never do over what I never did at all,
there’s another place where you’re still
as light as you ever were.

I think of it, and of our three nights, whenever I close my eyes.
Such a shame that I have to close my eyes to see you, Julie.

So hard to believe that it could have been different.

I can almost see it when I close my eyes.

I have to learn to let that be enough.

make this brief…

Saw the doctor yesterday. I do like this guy; after hearing my feelings regarding the various sedations and symptoms I’m having, he immediately had me cut back on the Lithium a bit and gave ME some guidelines to exercise control over how much I take on any given day, which thrills me — recognizing my own years of expertise with what my body does with drugs. I like that.

He also gave me instructions for more blood tests, as he’s concerned that the symptoms may mean I’m anemic. Not so good — we’ll see.

I feel like I’m finally, FINALLY coming out of it to a large degree. You cannot imagine how glad that makes me.

OK. Some shifts, some significant, others less so.

I think this captures the vibe I wanted better — implied value judgment, done through details versus description — thanks to all.

The Activist