Overread at Table 3: Poem of the Day: Houston, 2015

A Memory of Houston, Summer 2015

 

We were

searching for stars

on a downtown street

lit by spattered neon

in the rain,

on a Saturday night

when the symphony people

poured onto the sidewalk

like milk

from an overturned

carton,

and in the

stone gazebo

that capped

the underground

carpark

a young man played

a saxophone

while stomping

a bass drum with one

foot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

MR

2017-1026

Overread at the Counter: American Fascist Chronicle - Day 277

Undercover of the Night: The Senate votes to dismiss a CFPB order which denied issuers of Credit Cards from forcing holders to go through arbitration instead of using the court system, a practice which has been proven to be unfair to cardholders, because the arbitrator is usually  in the employ of the card issuer.  Mike Pence, VP, cast the tie-breaking vote.

 

The VP only works under the direct order of the President.

 

Trump currently holds that office.

 

Trump campaigned on being tough on Wall Street.

 

This is a gift to Wall Street.

 

Will there be outrage from Trump supporters, who realize that their President has sold them out?

 

No.

 

Why not?

 

Because they have been blinded by his constant lies.  Their senses are dulled and they believe in this image of Trump that is an infantile fantasy.

And this fantasy will kill them.

As it will all of us.

The same night: The Yankees beat the Astros 3-1 in Game One of the World Series.

Both were 100+ game winners.   Only seven times have 100 game winners met in the World Series.

GO 'STROS!

Poem of the Day: The Subtlety of You

The subtlety of you.
The you that is so quiet.
The you of the sleepy head against the pillow,
in the ambient hush of just before dawn,
and your cheek, soft and pliable against my lips
that kiss you just before I leave the room,
softly closing the door behind me
so as not to wake you,
so as not to lose
the subtlety of you.
















MR
2017-1013

Overheard at Table 3: The BFG

Billy: I loved it.


Joe: Isn't the guy who wrote that book now a Jew-hater?


Jim: Whaddaya mean by "now?"


Bob: Yeah, guy's been dead for decades.


Billy: Just read about it.


Joe: So, if he's anti-Semite, don't we gotta hate everything he's ever written?


Jim: And burn copies?


Bob: Yeah.  Been years since we've been to a good book-burning.


Billy: Can't we like the stuff but not have to like the guy?


Joe: I don't think it works that way.


Jim: Culturally speaking.


Bob: You can always enjoy the stuff in secret.


Billy:  I'm just saying, if the books are good and the movies are good, does it matter if the writer's a


Jew-Hater or a racist or whatever?


Joe: Oscar Wilde said "There are no moral or immoral books.  They are only well-written or poorly written.  Nothing else." 


Jim:  ... or something to that effect.


Bob: So I guess you can.


Billy: Just don't let anybody find out.


Joe: Good.  Because I thought The BFG was awesome.


Jim: What does BFG stand for anyway?


Bob: Big Friendly Giant.


Billy:  Good, because I was thinking something totally different.


Joe: I think everyone was.


Jim: Great movie anyway.


Bob: One of the few that the CG really MAKES the movie instead of just making the whole thing


look silly.


Billy: Like a cheap cartoon.


Joe: Exactly.


Jim: How close is the movie to the book?


Bob: Don't know.


Billy: Haven't read it.


Joe: I think we burned it.


Jim: Ha ha.  You're such a kidder.

Bob:... but, IS he kidding?  hmmmm.....

Overheard at Booth 5: Coming Out

Fernando: I don't know, man.




Billy: Look, you're gonna have to tell your parents about us at some point.




Fernando: I was gonna wait until my birthday.




Billy: That's in January!  I was hoping we could spend Christmas together.




Fernando: I'll be 18 then and they wouldn't be able to say anything.




Billy: Well they're gonna say something no matter what age you are, especially considering I'm 40.




Fernando: [silent]




Billy: That's what's bugging you, isn't it?   It's OK. You can tell me.  I get it.  The age difference.




Fernando: Billy, they don't even know I'm GAY.  Then, to also tell them I'm in love with someone almost my dad's age.




Billy: I think your dad'll understand.   I mean, he and I have got a lot in common.  We both voted for
Obama ... TWICE!!

Overheard at Table 2: Bump Stock Review by the NRA

Heard on NPR this morning as I was moving cars at 5:15am, pundits discussing possible gun reviews in government.  They were saying that NRA was on board with a review of the bump stock.  The pundits were blithely saying that congress was trying to decide if the review would be sufficient for the NRA, as was the White House.

 

I wanted to scream at these pundits that the NRA shouldn’t get to choose.   They shouldn’t even have a say.

 

Here’s the deal: a government, when working properly, exists to protect the citizens.

The NRA does not exist to protect the citizens.  The NRA exists to protect guns.  Period.

When it comes to protecting the citizens and guns, if those two come into conflict, then government is required to side with the citizens and the NRA can side with guns.   Government, being the stronger entity (again: when working properly), should have the final say and determine the best path forward to protect the citizens.

 

Since the government cannot make a coherent, rational decision, without sticking out its tongue and wagging like a dog begging at the master’s table, it is time to remove government and install one that will protect the citizens.   We will do this by making our voices heard and by voting wisely.

 

To accomplish this: We must call each of our federal representatives, daily.

Second: we must educate ourselves on candidates, every one.  We must vote in every election.  We must encourage others to vote in every election, at every level, and for others to be educated on every candidate, every topic.

 

Yes this may sound inconvenient, but remember, the next concert you go to, or that your children go to, it could be your brain that’s blown out by a madman’s bullet.  Or your teenage daughter’s.   Her skull could be smashed to pieces so badly that you would only be able to identify her by the shape of her jaw or the birthmark on her shoulder.   And, knowing that you could have spoken up, knowing that you could have said something, done something, but didn’t, then, at that time, you can accept some measure of culpability.

Poem: Mandalay

Mandalay

Even as I lie with you

side by side,
here, in this bed,
there are shots being fired,
thousands of rounds of ammunition,
from a 32^nd story window in Las Vegas,
into a crowd of tourists attending
a country music festival,
but we do not hear the rounds,
we do not hear the cries,
we do not hear the sirens.

We are asleep.

But we will awake to the news
in the light of day,
and then we will have a choice to make.








MR
2017-1002