this is very much a first draft — may look better or worse in the AM. Comments welcome.

I don’t believe in you, Beauty

A man in the corner of the laundromat
repeats this every twelve seconds
while my clothes spin dry behind him

I am sure he’s talking to me
I don’t believe in Beauty either
We’ve had this talk before

I wash my clothes three times a week
here on Highland Street where all the philosophers do
I get everything very clean

because cleanliness is near unto God
and since I don’t believe in Beauty
God’s what I fall back on

For the man in the corner God is Beauty
His existence is neither clean nor holy
He washes his clothes only when they stink

I try to keep my distance
afraid of lowering my standards
perhaps

but I listen and it’s hard sometimes
not to disagree when he says it
in an effort to make him feel better

I don’t believe in you, Beauty

his face so grey
his hands so gnarled
his eyes so soft

I would hold him close
if I could
get by the smell

but if that were meant to be
surely God would wash him
or at least get him to wash his clothes

I shake it off
I ask him to move
It’s time to fold

The Worcester folks who hear all my stuff may recall a poem (from Mano Poderosa)called “Eileen is Burning,” about a long suffering, artistically stifled suburban woman who at last figures out a way toward a bit of freedom.

Think of this as a prequel, or perhaps I’m turning her into a multipart poem.

Eileen’s Moment of Truth

1. Overt/confrontation.

Direct action. journalism — response articles, public argument, opinion pieces, etc, that are designed to help recast the debate from (Christian)Morality/Conservatism vs. Secular Humanism/”Liberalism” to one of restriction vs. equitable treatment, intolerance vs. tolerance, etc.

Direct action, cultural — lend artistic voices to benefits and protests. Consider that written/spoken media may be less powerful these days than visual/interactive, and look for opportunities to go multimedia where possible.

Boycotts of businesses that discriminate against oppressed populations and/or support conservative/oppressive social policies.

What else?

2. Covert/Subversion.

Specific ideas: the sign thing from my earlier post.

Bumper stickers/T-shirts that flip the script:

“LEFT WING PATRIOT”
“CULTURAL WARRIOR”
“MEAN RELIGION SUCKS”
“NOT MY PRESIDENT — OR ANYONE ELSE’S”

Street teams for infiltrating neighborhoods, etc. with contrary opinions. (Not sure what this looks like — just seems to bea method that might be useful.)

Try to avoid large scale demonstrations. I think they’ve lost their effectiveness.

PUT FACES ON ISSUES IN THE NEWS. Reduce abstractions, make stuff personal.

Take back our language from the Right. Speak of patriotism, morality, etc. as we talk of our own positions.

Fly the flag AND leftist iconography. Stop being afraid to claim our citizenship.

Avoid demonizing/stereotyping Christians as a group. Attack and relentlessly pursue behaviors, not people.

MORE!!!!! What do YOU got?

Long day.

Seems like I didn’t miss a whole lot, looking back over the day’s entries.

The high point of my day was finally, decidedly, settling in to a confirmed 30-lb. weight loss (by which I mean the average fluctuations for the last week or so have been within a pound or two of a point 30 lbs off of my peak weight, which I was at when I started watching my carbs).

It is a measure, I think, of how overweight I am that people keep saying, “You’ve lost some weight, haven’t you?” and are then genuinely surprised when I tell them how much I’ve lost. It’s really not so noticeable yet. I can tell, of course.

I didn’t start out trying to lose weight. I started this because my meds manager suggested that I might be less groggy and lethargic from all those lovely drugs if I tried reducing my carb intake. It worked. The weight loss has been a welcome side effect.

Now if I could just find the right hair care products and win the culture war, I’d be happy.

Long day.

Seems like I didn’t miss a whole lot, looking back over the day’s entries.

The high point of my day was finally, decidedly, settling in to a confirmed 30-lb. weight loss (by which I mean the average fluctuations for the last week or so have been within a pound or two of a point 30 lbs off of my peak weight, which I was at when I started watching my carbs).

It is a measure, I think, of how overweight I am that people keep saying, “You’ve lost some weight, haven’t you?” and are then genuinely surprised when I tell them how much I’ve lost. It’s really not so noticeable yet. I can tell, of course.

I didn’t start out trying to lose weight. I started this because my meds manager suggested that I might be less groggy and lethargic from all those lovely drugs if I tried reducing my carb intake. It worked. The weight loss has been a welcome side effect.

Now if I could just find the right hair care products and win the culture war, I’d be happy.

1.

Condi Rice as Secretary of State. Bush gets the lapdog he always wanted.

2.

Don’t expect this to ring a bell with everyone, but Abimael Guzman, head of Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path ), the extremely violent Maoist/Native revolutionary movement in Peru, saw his trial collapse today when two out of three judges recused themselves.

I followed Sendero pretty closely at their peak in the 80s. Really, the first group of terrorists to make regular use of suicide bombers, most of whom were women. They also used to send dogs wired with explosives into crowded marketplaces.

It’ll be interesting to see what comes of this.

3.

I’ll be in a loooong-ass class through Thursday, so if you don’t hear from me, it doesn’t mean anything except I’m away from the computer.

Be well.

when will I come to you again for featury goodness?

I need an excuse to come down, dammit!!!!

I’ll even read poems for food.

Love me, NY. If I can make it there, I’ll have passed through Connecticut.

If I still smoked,
I’d be lighting up right now
right after rolling out of bed
to taste the only cigarette
I would truly taste all day,
out of all the ones I’d smoke in a day
that was the one cigarette I wanted most,
the one every smoker lives for, the one I smoked
before anything else could get into
my body and come between the smoke
and the smoker, the one that smelled
like my father and his habits, him at the table
with a cup of coffee and the Tribune,
grunting merely, not seeing me
steal a Winston from the pack before school
so I could light up walking along the tracks
and suffer the giddy nausea as I walked,
wondering if the feeling went away
once you smoke more, wondering
if it got easier as you went along,
learning only later that it did not
and smoking even more after my father died of it
because it was what I did back then,
what I thought I was supposed to do,
keeping at it until you taste so little
you have to keep trying to find it again,
living beyond giddiness and nausea and my wondering
at where it all would go
until I saw myself in my father’s habits,
and saw my father in the dark bedroom, in the morning
when I awoke, and though I am like him
I am not him
so I quit.

it was good to see you again. You rocked the house and did it with style and substance that I hope worked for you as well as it did for us.

Not to mention the bull session after…

Thanks.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Again, with the no sleepiness without drugs. Crap.

I’m sure it’s got something to do with the vat of coffee I drank tonight.

Seroquel’s kicking in, though, so no worries.

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And before I pass out: upcoming features!

NEXT WEEK at the old homestead, the Java Hut, 11/21. BOOK RELEASE PART-AY!!!!!

Dec. 12: Washington DC at Teaism.

January 17: Westfield MA at Jester’s Cafe (aka the little reading that could).

More on the way.

Night night…

Doing my part to subvert the right wing Christian paradigm:

I’m assuming that in many parts of the country, there are houses that have these wooden signs out front on sturdy posts that display a rotating menu of Bible quotes. All the ones I’ve seen around here are stained dark, with the sign itself painted in dark green and gold. Know the ones I mean?

They always have some cheery quote on them like “The wages of sin is death” or “Tremble before Him, o ye wicked!” with chapter and verse citation right below. Really dresses up a neighborhood.

I’m thinking of getting one for my house, except the signs would say things like “And Bingo was his name-o,” “Oops, I did it again,” or perhaps even just a simple, pious “w00t!”

This could be huge.

Maybe, more seriously, we could do quotes from great spiritual traditions that AREN’T Christianity (they do exist). Or from great secular thinkers. It’ll look like a UU revival meeting out there.

Then again, I could be even more American and patriotic than that.

I could just sell the ad space.

The new Zero Point Zero is up.

It’s an expansion of the discussion here earlier this week about allowing “space” in a poem. I’ll be interested to see how that goes over with the Gotpoetry crowd…

In a mean (but honest) experiment I’ve repeated several times over the two years, I mentioned in the lead paragraph that I was (and it was true) listening to Public Enemy while I worked on the column.

Mentioning hiphop in a title or a lead paragraph seems to increase readership. Can’t imagine why…

Only five more to go, I believe…

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Please, PLEASE let me know as you learn if you or any other people you know are coming to iWPS…I really need to start getting a sense of this for the CD project.

Right now, I’ve got a handful of y’all, and I heard that Corbet Dean is the competitor from Mesa.

Anybody post the original post on the slamlist? As I said, feel free…

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Busy day ahead. Many chores, errands, and stuff — dinner with old friends tonight; more of the same tomorrow PM, followed by (YAY!) aurorabell at the Asylum tomorrow night.

Have a good one…

I put two fingers
under her chin
and kissed her in
a Chicago garage,
just out of range of the
sodium lights, just once,
the only time
it ever happened, and
I still remember it, not because
it was unsatisfying,
lust unslaked
or love unrequited,
but because it was
the right thing at the right moment
and it doesn’t happen often
that slices of spark and dark
meet that tightly and well.

I hope she’s somewhere now
with that moment still suspended
between her
and someone else.
I hope it stayed with her. I can’t find it,
and it can’t be
lost forever.

Didja notice than no one’s asking tough, impolite questions?

Only ted_badger pointed that out, and suggested a couple.

What do we keep to ourselves? What do we want others to keep to themselves?

I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about.

Ask away. Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don’t know about you.

I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about.

Ask away. Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don’t know about you.