Hi, I’m a Writer, and that’s a fact you can take to the bank, because you are reading some of my writing. You’re a Writer too, and you can prove it to me by leaving a comment. You can also help boost the net compassion in the world by leaving me a Like, and saying something nice about me in the comment that proves you’re a Writer.

Gullible people are more compassionate and worthy of existence than those cynical and nasty murderers out there. Gullible people know that when a word starts with a capital letter it means it is more Legitimate and Important. And even though they know deep down that the main reason a catchy title invites you to click a button is that someone wants you to buy some stuff, or at the very least become more aware of the stuff, that has nothing to do with the catchy title, the compassionate, Important Gullible Person will click it anyway, because they will learn that one irresistible Thing that the Title promised them they would learn.

Except sometimes the title cheats. For instance, Yes, there are 145 facts about gullibility. A few are described here. The rest of them, you Magnificent Reader and Writer, You, are rattling around in your own Sub-Subconcious, waiting for You to dredge them up. It will be hard but by the time You are done, O Illustrious One, YOU will be completely cured of Gullibility…

…unless the next clickbait you encounter has either a kitty-cat or a young female Human Being with a huge pair of hemispherical Glands.

Buy my stuff, wouldja please?

In the last few seconds, you drew breath,/Moved blood,/Built a thought.

You have decided to do these things/For your betterment/And to see what happens. Soon you will review/Plans for the maintenance of your livelihood,/Appeasements of the wants and aches that drive you,/And speculative wanderings/That lead you to places/Where you feel more welcome/And less wrong.

There are things you must fight for./You have decided to fight,/But you have not decided/How fiercely.

When you have decided/To channel your fierceness/Into that battle with that part of yourself/That has been wheedling you astray/In the name of Not-Ready-Yet…

And I-Shouldn’t-Have-To…

And I-Can’t…

When you have silenced that constant/Seductive whisper of doubt/Of distraction from your truer/Striving self…

Then all your other decisions will follow

Organically.

fifty-six years ago i owned a nehru jacket

i had some love beads too

and said “right on” a lot

my mom took a picture now lost of me in that jacket/and those beads/and that lank long hair/and that smug expression

fourteen-year-old poseur full of himself

no clue as to who the real nehru was

looking now like a piece of period furniture

i sit in my underwear and planetary society t-shirt/waiting for my heart to stop signaling/that something is going on in there

this is nothing new/when my brother was still alive more than six years ago/i felt something like this/and reported the feeling in a facebook post/and my classmate jeff/said get to e r that’s the widowmaker/i felt that when i had my heart attack

and my poet friend julie/said where are you i will drive you to the hospital

and so i called brian my brother now deceased/and he drove me to the e r/and they fast-tracked me into a little room/iv’d me up/got an ecg going

and not much later i was on my way home ecg reading normal bp ok cardiologist recommending a ct with contrast and wrote a script and an appointment was made

insurance would not approve that/instead greenlit a nuclear stress test/with result ‘normal’ because heart perfusion ‘normal range’

so in the several times/in the intervening years/i have like now just sat quietly and waited/for the signals to fade to quiet

and now the room is getting dark and no more heartjolting/and it’s first friday and a lot of stuff is going on/and i have missed the poetry event in tempe/missed the shabbat with my friend nadia and her family/but I can still catch the tail end of my sculptor and teacher friend sue’s solo show opening

time to put my pants on

life is fleeting precious and wonderful

The landlines are gone/And the pay phones are too/For our race has moved on/From the Anchorage Zoo

But the thing on our person/Both frees and inhibits/To better and worsen/Our lifestyle exhibits

Our likes are recorded/Our life events shared/No matter how sordid/We end up ensnared

We end up so pounded/By ask and directive/By deluge unbounded/And doomscroll invective

The stress of such pressure/Seems never to cease

Hey, end this indenture

The Off switch

Brings

Peace

dragonrollku

the life dragon bites/but here is your rare chance to/bite the dragon back

californiarollku

california/rolls are scorned by some as too/californian

chalkoutlineku

the sushi chef sees/his enemy and hopes he/wants to try fugu

6 jan 2021/a mob surges toward the Capitol building/where vote certifications are being kept

the mob was urged to “fight like hell”/but the  phrase “peaceably and patriotically” was also in there

violence ensues

the man who urged watches/he does not interfere/though he knows full well/that all he has to do/is get in front of a microphone and say

“Hey, stop with the violence already. What part of ‘peaceably and patriotically’ didn’t you understand?”

no, he continues to watch. continues/to watch./he gets word/that some are chanting HANG MIKE PENCE!/not much later he texts a message.

the message is not “Knock it off, you guys! You are not being peaceable!”/no, the message boils down to “Shame on Mike Pence for not doing right by me!”

and much later he delivers a message via microphone./ part of the message is “Go home.” part is “We love you.”

the concept of “the elephant in the room”/is insufficient for the events/of 6 jan 2021.

many more than one elephant is required.

“Luck is hot and people funny.
Everybody’s fond of money.
Lost a chance and sell your mother.
Win the pot and buy another.
Other people fall and crash:
You could win the pot of cash!”

Cordwainer Smith (Norstrilia)

Candidates are on the Net/With fancy cardboard signs/Help us win! Our goal’s not met!/Please be our Valentines!

I have given till it hurts!/It’s not enough, they say./Sell your houses! Live in yurts!/THEY win, you’ll REALLY pay!

Save the puppies! Save your souls!/Help Joe get his new kidney!/Help Steffy’s face be free of moles?/Fate dealt her trash cards, didn’ he?

I am broke. Fudge it! Alas!/Jumpstart may deliver/Needed funds to save my ass,/I, the Compulsive Giver.

***

Afterword: The asks for money for this and that has grown to epic, epidemic proportions on the Internet. And if you give, you poor sap, they have evidence that you are a soft touch, and they ask you for more and more.

My poor Uncle Jim died near-broke in 1993. On the side of his bed he didn’t sleep on there were huge stacks of correspondence with charitable organizations, some legit, some predatory. My advice to generous souls: Make a budget for charitable contributions AND KEEP IT. (PS: I try, but I can’t, but not by much.)

hair and sky and pearl and cat/eminence and feltoid hat/underwear and spiffy suit/praise the lord and pass the loot

fabrics that have needed bleaching/consciousness that suffers leaching/in a world that’s splashed with hues/colorless relief can’t lose