New Folk Song/Talking Blues version of ALL ABOUT THAT OIL

 Yeah, talk about that oil? That oil, that oil. It's all about that oil, that oil, that oil, that oil. See... The price of gas. Go up, up, up. See, stocks go down, down, down. It's all about that oil. That oil, that oil. It's all about that oil. That oil, that oil. Donald thinks he can put boots on the ground, and... make a... trip across... land filled with oil. It's all about that oil, that oil, that oil, that oil. It's all about that oil, that oil, that oil. That oil. Nobody able to come into the Iran streets, and... have something like the Arab spring... But that didn't stop Donald and Benjamin from dreaming. They dreamed it,they schemed it. They made an unholy mess in the Middle East, because it's all about that oil, that oil, that oil, around is all about that, oil, all that, oil, that oil. And... don't give me started on the strait of HormuzThat'll take a long time to figure out why the Strait of Hormuz wasn't left alone, and we weren't even fighting a war in the first place. But with, uh, Donald, he's a big, tough guy, so he... plunged ahead without stopping to think, Why? Because it's all about that oil, that oil, that oil. It's all about that oil, that oil, that oil. Yes, it's about that or that... It's going to take weeks, more and more. I hate reading emojis on Facebook of people laughing at no kings rallies. They’re saying silly things, going back to my childhood, about love it or leave it. And I think, you first, because it's all about that oil, that oil, that oil, it's all about that oil, that oil, that oil. And at some point, Donald will walk away, and leave Benjamin to... do what he does to the Middle East, and keep bombing Gaza so Jared can put... some kind of a luxury hotel on the land, that is, still being destroyed, but... Because it's all about money, money, money, money, money, investment, money. Affordability goes away, away, away, because it's all about that oil, that oil, that oil, that oil, that oil, that oil. Someday we'll see Donald try to... when he's not tearing up. The... other parts of the White House that he can destroy when Donald goes ahead, and... plants a big, big flag on the White House lawn says, I won I, won. Actually, he probably lost, but he keeps saying I won, I won, I won, I won, I won. And that's when... the country is... gone through the floor like Rumplestiltskin  through the floor like Rumplestiltskin. Gone through the floor .Nobody can afford to eat, forget vacations, forget fun, just work, work, work. Take two or three jobs, work, work, take no time off, work, work. It's all about that oil, that oil, that oil, all about that oil, that oil.

Listen to this on SoundCloud:

https://on.soundcloud.com/ooiMkPHzPgLzKbjLky

New Poem: BILL MAHER AND THE MARK TWAIN PRIZE

 please please please

 please please please

 gotta have the Comedian Respected Award

 goddamn it give it to me I deserve it

 please please please

 Donald I’m sorry I made you sue me

 look at me grovel across the floor

 from the doorway to the bottom of your desk

 please please please please bless me me me

New Poem: STUCK IN A WAR YOU CAN’T GET OUT OF

 you haven’t been shot or stabbed or drone bombed

 because it’s enough to watch the curated highlights 

 behind the safety of the resolute desk

 keep lying to get through each quicksand day

 yammer out fifteen-point plans and demands for abject surrender

 those things don’t work with angry theocrats 

 willing to murder their own citizens in the streets

 (in far greater numbers than Stephen Miller’s ICE corps)

 and transport their rage to other parts of the Middle East 

 but, hey, you carved a deep scar

 onto the surface of the world stage

 and discovered the dogs of war you let slip

 won’t return immediately after you call them 

New Poem: CAN’T SAY IT IN 30 SECONDS

 received the invitation to summarize

 my brief stint in community theatre 

 as both teenage student and volunteer 

 turned on the video recorder red light

 said it too slow, tried again

 delivered it rapidly, a little better

 but I don’t have that special skill

 of highlighting one year 

 in the space of a TV or radio commercial 

 >

 if I had, say, five minutes to

 discuss the plays I’d seen,

 some of the people I met

 and how the experience was positive 

 it probably still wouldn’t be enough 

 but I’m glad someone asked for a testimonial 

 

 

New Poem: FRAGILE

 impressed with your confidence 

 but wasn’t alert to your shades

 of discomfort discontent dissociation 

 just thought you’ll have a good life

 doesn’t matter if I’m not included 

 years later, didn’t expect your obituary 

 read the funeral home website guestbook 

 plenty of condolences for your partner 

 but only three people mourning you

 >

 wish there had been more true friends you trusted

 to confess I’m in misery I’m broken I want out It’s too much

 and have them drop everything to come to

 your side and help you find ways forward

New Poem: KEEP REPEATING

 neglect absence anger

 helicoptering

 demanding not explaining

 hovering

 hit hard say it’s a love pat

 screaming 

 give you some of what you want

 beseeching 

 if I could I’d pay her to date you

 belittling

 study hard harder 

 encouraging 

 don’t trust you not to be your brother

 discouraging 

 spend the summer away from bad people 

 limiting

 love me regardless of how you turn out

 trying 

 really really trying

 too afraid of your disappointment disapproval 

 accepting 

 accepting

 way too accepting 

 just can’t say no to you

 

New Poem: HOSPICE

 pencils down, no closure

 look at my mother 

 who almost never speaks

 existing but not living

 I’m in the hospice room 

 three days of visiting

 she only says my name once

 hospice nurse calls in from another location 

 involved with an assisted suicide 

 my mother would never want that

 sometimes she eats and drinks water

 but after I flew home to California 

 she stopped eating, water unswallowed

 waiting to see whether this changes

 or if I need to tell the hospice nurse

 to begin the morphine treatment 

 >

 when I patted her hand covered by blanket 

 she briefly opened her eyes 

 

 

New Poem: ALL ABOUT THAT OIL

 all about that oil that oil that oil

 see price per barrel go up up up

 if a hard-liner takes over, Donald doesn’t care

 CIA tries to manufacture people’s rebellion 

 just you wait for Donald and Benjamin to walk away

 because it’s all about that oil that oil that oil

New Poem: IT FADES EVENTUALLY

 all the times when you were cheated disappointed thwarted

 going along and burying misgivings to make others satisfied 

 decades pass and it’s too late to demand apologies 

 make the best of where you are in the days/years remaining 

 no more poems about being thrown out of cars, off of trains

 just deep mind-clearing breaths before entering the room 

R.I.P. Larry Jaffe

Just read on Facebook about the passing away of Larry Jaffe. New Yorker, Californian and, of late, Floridian.  Larry, along with the late Donn Deedon, hosted the Poetic License readings in Pasadena/Hollywood (Melrose)/Los Feliz/Silverlake.

His raucous informality as host and poet/storyteller gathered a large following of poets in various stages of developing both writing craft and stage presence.  

This was a time when SoCal readings—populist and elevated—thrived.

By 2002, the L.A. scene began to crave formality and a tighter standard as to features (mostly limited to prestige small presses and MFA degree holders).  Larry, perhaps sensing this shift, began hosting a reading at the Autry Museum which, after an initial evening resembling the Poetic License of yore, became shorter and more subdued afterwards and limited in terms of features plus invited poets with less time allowed (no open readers as I recall).

If memory is correct, Larry did host a one-off reading at the Rainbow Grill at the Sunset Strip around 2004.  It was  more in the Poetic License tradition and the last time I encountered him in person.

I was never allowed into the inner circle of Poetic License (writing this now as a neutral observation), but I did like to go to its readings and made a few friends/acquaintances there.

Essentially, Larry, Donn, Midnight Special’s Olin Tezcatlipoca and Joan Zoric and Pasadena’s Don Kingfisher Campbell and Jack Bowman were quite influential on my ventures in this subculture between 1998-1999.  Regardless of how the later years turned out, I’m glad to have met and learned from them.

Revised Poem: BEHIND YOUR CURTAIN VERSION 3

Behind your curtain

was a stage flat that looked like a brick wall

I hoped the wall would never change

You used to bless me with teenage smiles

then the smiles stopped justlikethat 

and everything I did got on your nerves

so I closed my curtain 

and never again stepped out for encores

>

Over two decades later,

I visited a restored home 

in West Los Angeles

the owner had a living room curtain 

pulled open to reveal a picture window 

displaying a view of a flower garden,

a swimming pool,

and a charming guest house

>

It’s the kind of sight

you would have loved

in the year

when we were both fifteen 

and wanted to become working actors 

before my parents and yours reprogrammed us

no more live that dream

it became renounce that dream

because it wasn’t….practical 

New Poem: THREE WHITE DOPES

 Stephen Miller’s literal whitewashing 

 Spraying from the Presidential mouth

 At an international function used to decorum 

 As Kayleigh tries to create the alternate reality—

 OH, THEY JUST LOVED OUR DEAR LEADER—

 And at least 62 percent of Americans brace for 

 Another  broadside smash from the Trump bumper car

Goodbye Bowerbird Intelligentleman

He was part of both the poetry slam and “regular” poetry communities.  I came onto the scene a bit too late to see him at his most active, but I experienced his work on a handful of occasions.  Most times, he would turn up at readings just  to watch and observe the features and open mic list.

And he certainly could speak his mind about the foibles and unspoken rules—privately offering counsel (which I may not have thought through enough) about when to say something and when prudent restraint was more apropos.

We fell out eventually and I only learned of  his passing earlier today via Rev. Dave Wheeler (best known to me for his work with the Midnight Special bookstore and the early years of the Rapp Saloon reading).

Here are some nuggets of Bowerbird calling it as he saw it:

"...if you want to get noticed by the [community’s] in-crowd",

start taking workshops from some of them and kiss their ass.

oh yeah, you'll have to sever your ties with the "crap" poets too.

after a few years of that, they will start throwing you crumbs.

after years of _that_, you might make as much money as them.

it might sound crass, but there is no other way they'll notice you."

listserves are an "intelligentle" many-to-many communication,
because they enable discussion that can be full and thoughtful,
where many sides are able to speak to any and all of the issues,
but where any of the participants can opt out when they choose,
and all they have to do is use the "delete" key on their keyboard.
so any conflict isn't "in your face" unless you _want_ it to be...

***

but hey, don't interpret what i'm saying as "poets are not mean".
take it from me, poets can be _plenty_ vicious. _unspeakably._
and -- considering the size of the usual stakes -- unnecessarily.
but, like most backstabbing out in the real world, that happens
in secret, not right out in the open, like on the public listserves.
compared to that sneaky underhanded shit, what you see here is
mostly silly and laughable and childish...

i see from an e-mail in my in-box 
that venue hosts are being called
"the unsung heroes" of the scene...

yes, hosts do a lot of work, it's true.
and if you've never done it yourself,
you'll likely underestimate, by half,
the amount of hassle that it can be,
constantly dealing with a bunch of
ego-maniacs who want the stage...

but let's look at the other side too...

first, producing gives you a huge boost
in visibility, and perceived "importance",
not to mention stage-time of your own,
and without having to fight anyone for it.

second, the ability to _book_others_
means that you have "a favor to trade",
and the favor-trading is very obvious...

indeed, when deserving poets come to me and
ask how they can get more feature invitations,
i regularly give them two recommendations:
1. just plain ask, and several will follow, and
2. start up your own series and book hosts,
as that's a sure way to get return bookings.

so let's not pretend that hosting is selfless.
it cuts both ways.

how these competing factors "balance"
is up to each one of us to decide, but
i think the fact that there is no shortage
of poetry series -- each with a host --
indicates how most poets weigh it out.

if hosts were really "the unsung heroes",
there wouldn't be so darn many of 'em,
because poets are _not_ very altruistic,
as anyone with experience will tell you.
(and hosts will be the first to verify that.)

no, where we have a clear _shortage_
is with the number of poets who are
willing to come to a show and _listen_,
without a strong ego-need for the stage.
_that_ is how selflessness reveals itself...

so if you're looking for "unsung heroes"
in _this_ scene, look for _those_ people.
(and hey, best of luck on finding any...)

as it is, any events that "host the hosts"
or "honor the poetry series in our scene"
looks like just another mutual back-pat
in the perpetual circle-jerk of our scene
from the perspective of _this_ observer...

-bowerbird

New Poem: IT’S RAINING RAZOR BLADES

 and the TV news local or national 

 feature the same tired old excuse

 whenever protests happen and/or people are murdered

 if ICE agents don’t wear masks

 then they and their families are in danger 

 >

 domestic government terrorists wearing masks

 not all that different from KKK citizen terrorists

2025 Movies Good Better Best (Second Draft)

In approximate order of release:

BLACK BAG

THE BALLAD OF WALLIS ISLAND

SINNERS

BRING HER BACK

28 YEARS LATER

KILL BILL: THE WHOLE BLOODY AFFAIR (Cannes version)

HIGHEST 2 LOWEST

WEAPONS

ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER

ROOFMAN

THE SMASHING MACHINE

CHRISTY

FRANKENSTEIN 

RENTAL FAMILY 

WAKE UP DEAD MAN

HAMNET

MARTY SUPREME 

Documentaries:

THE PERFECT NEIGHBOR

PREDATORS 

COVER-UP 

New Poem: IT’S GETTING WORSE

 this is the new Manifest Destiny

 oil and minerals more important than people

 survival of the fittest with less helped by vaccines

 as we watch and wait for Greenland to be breached 

 and NATO becomes our last hope 

 to stem the tide of ogliarch-appeasing conquest

New Poem: VENEZUELA BLOOD FOR OIL

 it’s the Friday night bomb drop

 night time is the right time

 to avoid unwanted press coverage

 >

 Fox News shows a split screen

 on the left is Caracas

 at right is Maduro

 photos chosen for Saddam resemblance 

 >

 oh what joy says Susie Wiles

 counting down the days and hours

 with Donald and Pete

 until Maduro apparently says uncle

 >

 what if Maduro fights back

 and American boots meet Venezuelan soil

 and afterwards Donald, 

 like a previous Donald,

 says STUFF HAPPENS

 and the oil industry friendly leader is rejected 

 >

 again and again and again

 same destructive things

 same refusal to learn

 same aversion to removing

 the moral stains

 from the American soul