New Poem: TRYING TO AVOID THE FIRE

 for the time being,

 they will take comfort in believing 

 he won’t come for them—

 instead it will be criminals.

 pregnant women daring to defy men,

 so-called deviants trapped in misgendered bodies

 >

 they hold themselves tight

 saying we break no laws

 we mind our business 

 no need to break in our houses

 enter our workplaces

 pull us over on freeways

 >

 the government who doesn’t care

 will close their eyes 

 and make their arrests

 no matter your situation 

 no matter your circumstances 

 no matter what you believe

 to be innocence

I remember Victor Infante all too well.

 He’s back!  He has a new book he’s reading from tonight at a venue in Westchester (West L.A. suburb near LAX) with wife and chosen colleague friends.  And if you’re an emerging poet who tries to gain his favor, perhaps he’ll take a genuine interest in you and your work.

Or, if you try to gain his favor by giving him your chapbook for feedback and hear nothing and call him on it (a general no-no in the literary aspirant community), you might get a reply like this one: 

First off, I'm sorry I called you a jerk. I was out of line, and for that, I genuinely apologize. On the other hand, I'm not going to apologize for not paying more attention to you, and it's glaringly obvious that's what this little tantrum has been about. [prominent poet, now MIA from the scene] didn't pay attention to you. I didn't pay attention to you. Wah, wah, wah.Grow up, Terry. If you've got problems with the poetry scene, do something about it. Start your own readings, start a festival. Publish a journal or Web zine. Whatever, but stop acting like a baby because you don't get the attention you deserve and others do. You're right, it's not a level playing field, and you don't get points for just being there. You've actually got to do something well. Writing well would be a start. I DO remember your chapbook. I still have it, in the piles of several hundred that I dutifully carried with me cross-country when I moved. Terry, it was dull. Very dull. Not bad, but there was little of interest going on there. I don't recall if I had read it yet when I saw you in Redondo, but even if I had, I doubt I would have said much. What was I supposed to say? "Sorry, it bored me to tears." But as I recall, it took me awhile to get around to it, because, even now, I get a ton of chapbooks very month. I've not thrown one away, and I try to read them all, but no, I can't review them, and I really had nothing consequential to say about it, for good or bad. As to my "wisdom would be something of value," Whatever. I don't recall volunteering to be your mentor, and while I've taught poetry in high schools and colleges, I don't recall you being in any of my classes. The sad fact is, Terry, I thought you were a nice guy,and always tried to be friendly to you, but no, I didn't care much for your writing. Would you have preferred that I said that? I can't see what good that would have done. It's not like I walked out of the room when you were on the microphone. Maybe you've gotten better, I don't know.You can have whatever opinions you want, Terry, and you can have whatever opinions you want about me, but the fact is, you're not the one out there doing the work, and if you've made any serious effort to BE the one out there doing the work, I'm sorry, but I don't recall it.

Shawn McCreesh heralds THE NEW YORK TIMES alignment with Trump 2.0

 Get a load of this fawning:

But there is no doubt about one thing: Mr. Trump was a ferociously effective campaigner.

To watch him up close on this third run for president was to see him blend comedy, fury, optimism, darkness and cynicism like never before.

New Poem: MEL AND JACK AND DANICA

 Mel Gibson Jack Ford Danica Patrick

 they build personal walls as high as the Babel Tower

 they probably say variations of F The Common People

 thinking they are advancing America by dragging 

 the gutter talking rambling carcass of Donald John Trump

 towards a finish line that isn’t what they imagine

 not the climax of a rancid second term in office

 to enable them to Keep What’s Theirs

 instead they’re pulling Trump towards what he dreads

 denials, delays, clang of prison door, silence

Peter Baker reminds morally deaf voters of Donald Trump perfidy

 Here’s Peter Baker pushing THE NEW YORK TIMES reporter analysis envelope: 

Sometimes lost amid all the shouting of a high-octane campaign heading into its final couple of weeks is that simple if mind-bending fact. America for the first time in its history may send a criminal to the Oval Office and entrust him with the nuclear codes. What would once have been automatically disqualifying barely seems to slow Mr. Trump down in his comeback march for a second term that he says will be devoted to “retribution.”

New Poem AI RAMBLE

 let your Artificial Intelligence do your thinking and deciding for you plus you can put it to work making what Guillermo Del Toro called screensavers but you with little background in art appreciation will call it genius pixel painting then you can feed your AI old movies and movie star photos to create a mediocre teaming of Alan Ladd and Humphrey Bogart and dunderheadedly claim it’s better than movies made with real people and real settings and after that you can fly to a foreign country to not learn the language but speak your native linguistics into a translator app and, once you’ve returned home, yon can tell your math teacher you don’t need to waste hours proving theorems because there’s AI to save time for you and as you persist in believing your Artificial Intelligence is all the computer power you need with no more reason to read and figure and learn, then you’ll find yourself easily led and, eventually, easily enslaved

New Poem: HALF DEAD MALL

 it was a sign of the End Times 

 when the Dillards department store

 which dressed affluent women and men

 was closed justlikethat 

 and reborn as a gigantic arcade

 POSTSCRIPT:  The above poem refers to Sikes Senter shopping mall in Wichita Falls, TX.  It was built in 1966, then sat empty until October of 1974.  What remains (including a Boot Barn, a Hot Topic, a Books-a-Million and an AMC multiplex) will celebrate its 50th anniversary next month.

New Poem: CRYING INSIDE

 dead for two weeks

 I do feel something 

 although it doesn’t show

>

 all I can say is this:

 I didn’t think it would 

 be quite this soon

 and I never imagined 

 you leaving this world 

 before my mother and myself 

 >

  things I wanted to tell you outweigh 

  whatever I did manage through 

  phone calls and texts

 >

  at least we were in some kind of contact 

  not a scenario where we hadn’t spoken in years