Category Archives: literary

why I don’t want to live on this planet any more

First they came for the proofreaders… (why I don’t want to live on this planet any more)

So I saw this cute shirt. Just one problem, well maybe two.

First problem may seem minor but it’s actually really huge, because while the sentiments of this shirt might seem at first to be clever and cute they are actually superficial and banal, if not just poorly thought out.

I mean can’t you come up with anything better than “I don’t want to live here anymore?” What next, are you going to cry about it? Do you think you are the first one to come up with the idea of escaping reality by claiming that the current reality is somehow beneath you? Like you don’t live in an entire culture that increasingly does nothing but try to escape?

Bad show I say. Instead why don’t you get truly clever and come up with a slogan that instills in young children the need to take more civic responsibilty? Then maybe in another 20 years or so we could start to dig our heads out of our asses, take some responsibility for what’s going on and not be quite in such a mess that we find ourselves in now.

Second problem, who the hell did the proofreading? Don’t you see it?

Dear “very clever shirt-makers”: if you have the audacity to put Trump and Clinton in the same category, at least give a shit about your stupid shirt enough to spell Hillary’s name right.

Which leads me to another tangent:

First they came for the Proofreaders, and I did not speak out,
Because I was not a Proofreader.

With such faith in spell check, soon we’ll all be riding in self-driving cars and then why not self-driving helicopters, drones and nuclear substations. Hey, the whole world could be put on auto pilot. And then how far off are we from having Governmentgoogle?

But I digress…

Revealing my sources…

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out,
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out,
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out,
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak for me.

some questions about aging

Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
Yes I will absolutely do that last one. I just need to get some white trousers.
And it is peach season, so I think the peach idea is a definite possibility.
Getting older isn’t the funnest thing in the world, but there are however advantages, like having children who can take your picture.
And somehow I find myself much more optimistic than Eliot ever was. So this particular post is really just because I love the poetry.

poem for Bernie on April 13th, 2016 (Washington Square Park, NYC)

Wow! I don’t think I’ve written a poem in 30 years. But standing in Washington Square Park, NYC listening to Bernie Sanders I was inspired. And only poetry could foot the bill. So here goes…

poem for Bernie on April 13th, 2016
(Washington Square Park, NYC)

In the shadow of Garibaldi,
we all knew just what to do,
what required all of our voices gathered together.

Through history’s many lenses,
sometimes honest men sowed the ruined soil,
sometimes criminals ran free as rain,
and finally these streetlights could cast our own aspirations.

The overly complicated dream could be untangled,
the sand bags and walls to paths,
that should have been left untaken,
becoming bridges and pipelines still ambling,
toward the words just coming into sight.

The bedside manner we patiently awaited,
our ears were finally ready to outline,
the bright and stubborn truth.

Watch it!