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Monthly Archives: November 2024

governors govern/presidents preside/representatives represent/but kings rule

for some it is a good gig/what with the scepter and ceremonies/the command performances the hobnobbing with bigshots/with the king the biggest shot of all

paradise for a megalomaniac and a drama queen

but the implied hierarchy is unsettling to some/and the acquisitive urge of royals/leads to the greedy want of more and more

which leads to some getting less and less

and competition amongst monarchs/leads to war

and though henry v himself fought in agincourt/rare is the king who takes arms himself

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we seem to love leaderboards/to know who’s on top/and if you speculate that such number-one-ing and top-tenning/might be inherently unhealthy

the mob might call you a commie

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some kings live prosperous long lives/some are booted out or regicide while still children

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mother earth does not care

Today at PIP Coffee and Clay these two items came from the bisque kiln. The one on the left is a closed vessel with a cut-out lid. I have given it to PIP’s barista and resident sculptor Nadia L as a wedding present. She married her sweetheart Daniel some weeks ago. “Glaze it any way you want,” I told her.

The form on the right, while avian, is not quite a bird. Look closely and you’ll see a host of weirdnesses, because in the joy of sculpting, adherence to reality went out the window.

I’m still here at PIP, enjoying sparkling mineral water and waiting for 1:30 PM, when my second 3-hour session begins. I feel the mojo, and have a lot to do!

i was lengths of roll-tubed clay/alchemy performed today/made me beach bum beach ball cat/cell phone on the side no hat/so i use my hand for shade

vaguely hoping to get laid/vaguely wishing for a towel/but there is no need to growl/i’ll just chill on canvas beach/vague existence tastes like peach

i woke near midnight

there seemed to be murmurs coming from the front room/which since i live alone and have no radio/was creepy and scary

i swung the door to the front room open/to silence/to no murmurs/to just whispery traffic noise/and the high-pitched soundthread/of mild tinnitis

i closed the connecting door and went back/to bed/and soon dozed/but in minutes woke/to murmuring

marched to the door but stopped/listened/couldn’t hear much/but it was more than traffic noise

carefully silently opened the door

the sound stopped

closed the door but not completely/and at the edge of audibility/there seemed to be more murmuring

got an idea got my phone/opened the sound recorder app/set it to record/left the phone in the front room near the birds/went to bed

drowsed/dozed/sank into/the velvet starscape/of slumb THEN A CAR ALARM WENT OFF RIGHT BY THE BEDROOM DOOR BWEEP BWEEP BWEEP BWEEP EE-AH EE-AH EE-AH EE-AH KEEZO KEEZO KEE–

then abruptly ended

i went back into the front room/got my phone and pressed stop/and the display said 3:14 and i pushed the play arrowhead

and there WAS a sound as if of distant voices/but i could not parse individual words/except perhaps near the end

hard to tell but it sounded like a hoarse old crow diffused in the fog of distance

“he needs to make more of us”

followed by an indistinct murmur of bird-assent AND THEN THE CAR ALARM WENT OFF BOTH ON THE RECORDING AND OUTSIDE THE WINDOW BWEEP BWEE*

i stopped the playback/at the exact instant the second car alarm stopped

you win, birds

I will make more of you

All my adult life I have been getting come-ons/For credit for timeshares for one-time-only offers

That are focused on my deservedness

“Here’s your new credit limit./You earned it. Take that vacation/You always wanted.

“You owe it to yourself.”

Sounded good/But had I read the fine print on the back/And the APR (Annual Percentage Rate) of 29.2%

I would have concluded/That I owed it to myself/To flee earnestly

I learned my lesson/But apparently the electorate did not/And voted for president a proxy/To fulfill their basest desires

He will kick ass and take names/For lists for future ass-kickings

He will purge his land of the shithole rabble

He will take additional steps to ensure that his will/IS The Will of the People

Or else!

And a vast army of REAL Thugs/Slavers to do his bidding

And the Bible he defiled and sold

Says

“Verily, they shall have their reward.”

a potter a sponge an x-acto knife a potter’s wheel a wire tool a needle tool a bucket of water a trimming tool and five pounds of white sandless clay

made a globular vase form let it firm up cut it free from the wheel head turned the vase upside down carefully centered and buttressed with a thick clay roll

trimmed away excess clay righted the vase centered and buttressed it again

and then the needle tool made guidelines the x-acto knife sliced the form into segments and the clay segments were baked in a kiln

and the potter took the fired-clay segments and tried several arrangements and arrived at one that felt super-right but needed something

and the search for that something amid already-fired oddments yielded a tiny egg shape and a corpuscular micronest for it to perch on

and the arrangement zinged

A feast for the eyes/Delight for the nose/A gift and a prize/An iris a rose/A wink and a noddle/A symbol of lust/An apt still-life model/A breeze and a gust

They stem bud and blossom/with petals their head/An odontoglossum/Enwreathed for the dead

[Remainder of poem available on request]

dear diary, i crapped/into my gold toilet as usual. my favorite/way to start my day. then i went/on truth social and it felt/really good to tee off/on the disloyal. i’ll do more of that tomorrow.

can’t wait for day one. it will be to die for.

he warned of a snake/”I’m a snake–wha’d you expect?”/guess who is the snake?

to the victors go/the spoils. victory at all costs. hey–/remember pyrrus?

mass deportation/not only of brown people/but of sanity

i do not have the right/to remain silent in the face/of this travesty

append a footnote to your journal:

yesterday saw infamy.

our vigilance was too diurnal,

attitude too fancy-free.

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an interregnum looms. smooth sailing

can’t be done in choppy waters.

gallows built and vlad impaling…

pray for sisters, mothers, daughters.

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Afterword: Donald Trump has just been elected President of the United States. The above poem alludes to some of the consequences I fear.