Dark Matter

boy, am i unemployed this morning.

hey, this station
just played bob seger
and funkadelic
back to back.

i think
my suburban childhood
just melted
like snow on asphalt.

of poems from LJ to a Word file.

40 poems from Sept. 8 to Dec. 29.

probably 10 good to go keepers outta that, another 20 that need more or less work, and 10 headed for oblivion. perfect bell curve.

of the keepers…8-9 good, 1-2 better than good.

i am nothing if not consistently ruthless in my analysis of my work. I think that’s a pretty good percentage.

there is a station in boston, WERS, run by Emerson College, that has a great jazz program on from 10-2 everyday…very eclectic, very open to many subgenres, and very willing to play old stuff alongside brand-new stuff. i dig it.

however, it is run by student DJs so the depth of knowledge about what they are playing is sometimes a tad shaky.

so when the DJ just now announced that the last song was by “DeAngelo Rinehat”, i was only mildly surprised.

headache. went home early from slam. who won?

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talking intelligently about race in america is damn near impossible.

the easiest way i can explain my feelings about the topic is to say that until we get past the institutional bias that “white” equals “normal” and that the ideal way of developing a tolerant and accepting society is to be “color-blind,” we will NEVER get it right.

my mother is white, my father is not. because of how i look, i don’t get treated as a person of color. however, i do not feel “honored” to be therefore included in the “white” category by default, which is why i actively and vociferously deny my “whiteness” as often and as loudly as i can.

i’ve seen enough baffled reactions from people who hear me say this that it becomes clear that the subtext is, “well, that’s not REALLY the same as being biracial…”

oh, but it is. head to a reservation, go talk to someone who went to one of the residential schools, go chat with Leonard Peltier — trust me, that experience is one of oppression for difference. i may not have seen much of it myself, but i lived with a father who did. i grew up in a family where race issues were the perpetual subtext of family gatherings, etc. despite outward appearances, my childhood experience was not a “white” experience, not was it a “Native” experience. it blended both into something else.

i get treated as though i am “white” although i am not, until i refuse the title, then i am either treated as “the other” or my claim of “otherness” is rejected by those who say “Oh, cool, my grandmother was Cherokee” (they seldom know that this is so often a code word in a family for an African ancestor) or who take it one step further by saying, “Oh, that’s ok” — thanks for letting me into the club…

sigh.

i’m on a tear about this tonight for a number of reasons…none of which on their own matter that much…

my end statements: “race” is a major social construct based in a minor biological variation. on its own, the variation is meaningless. in its role as social construct, it is the thread that holds America together. change the meaning of race in this country, you change the country profoundly.

“color-blind” policies too often reinforce the status quo. in addition, “color-blindness” is essentially dishonest; it negates a critical aspect of who a person is — not as much in terms of intrinsic worth, talent, or skill, but in not recognizing how ethnicity may have affected that person’s approaches to life in general.

race as a social construct has barely shifted in this country, overall, since Reconstruction. (Yes, Reconstruction.) no one will attack the problem of institutionalized racial prejudice in this country because it can’t be done without completely altering the power structure.

there is another observation to be made here, but i will wait until the firestorm has subsided over this outburst.

Pack of angry Chihuahuas attack officer
December 30, 2005

FREMONT, Calif. –A pack of angry Chihuahuas attacked a police officer who was escorting a teenager home after a traffic stop, authorities said.

The officer suffered minor injuries, including bites to his ankle, Detective Bill Veteran said. The five Chihuahuas escaped the 17-year-old boy’s home and rushed the officer in the doorway Thursday, authorities said. The teenager had been detained after the traffic incident.

The officer was treated at a hospital and returned to work less than two hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AP is carrying this, believe it or not.

But hey, pretty unrealistic, huh? I mean, Detective Bill Veteran???

happy birthdays to april, chris, and star!

by the way: i never use a username on a person’s birthday wishes — figure they deserve their real name on their birthday. if ya don’t know these folks, i’m sorry.

happy unemployment! happy what the fuck do i do now!

yeah, i’m serious. 😀

black telescope
i once adored stars through you
stars that were still pinpoints but sharper
and there were no lunar mountains
except through you

black telescope
i am in debt tonight
sleepless and unwelcome here
trampled and buried in fractures

black telescope
closeted, shiny and waiting for me
i can imagine lifting you again
aiming you again
finding a vision again
necessary and filling
as warm bread
stolen and consumed at midnight

black telescope
wiped clean
lens caps removed
my way out of here
is through you

i am now officially unemployed.

and on this first night of unemployment, i am stone cold sober.

i think that’s against the rules.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i feel pretty good, y’know?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so — anyone in NE want me for a feature right about now? i’ll tour later but am definitely up for some poetry action ASAP.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i wish i had some profound thing to say, but i’m just not feeling profound right now.

i am frankly feeling a little silly.

happy new year!

i almost forgot to tell this story.

last night i was in the drugstore picking up my prescriptions when i noticed two young kids, late teens, kneeling in front of the pregnancy tests.

him: white suburban b-boy, hand on her back. her: tiny, midriff bare and eyes swollen.

they selected a ClearBlue Easy and left for the front of the store.

a couple of minutes later they came back and asked the pharmacist if they had a bathroom — specifically, a women’s room. the pharmacist told them they could go use Papa Gino’s next door.

as i waited, i noticed they didn’t leave right away. they went to the birthday cards section.

I was standing near there when the guy came up to me and asked if i knew if the store sold television stands. i told him i wasn’t sure but directed him to the sundries, notions, and seasonal crap aisle.

when he came back and said they didn’t, i decided to poke into the situation a little. “i don’t want to pry, but — you know, i couldn’t help noticing that you bought one of those” — gesturing at the box she was holding as she shrank into herself — “and were looking for a bathroom. you know you can’t use that at night?”

he seemed surprised. “you can’t?”

“no. you have to do it first thing in the morning, when she…goes for the first time.”

“oh. i didn’t know that. thank you! thank you!”

“no problem. and i hope you get whatever result you’re looking for.”

he laughed. she never said a word. or made a sound. or eye contact.

as i left, they were up front, returning the test.

what is there to say about this?

last day at work after twenty and one half years.

it doesn’t feel weird or scary yet.

gimme a couple of hours.

starving artist, here i come.

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as of today, right now, i am planning to move to Albuquerque sometime in the spring.

things can always change, but i don’t think this is one of them.

i may also be taking a trip out to NM in late January to hang and scope the scene. already have a place to stay, everything else including dates is pretty loose.

s’alright? s’alright.

multimediagrl did an excellent funny/sexy set at the Cantab tonight.

great to see her.

a great open mike in general — as you might expect, i left before the slam.

plus, we had a cake for javabill‘s birthday.

wheee.