New Poem: TRUMP OFFERS $5,000 FOR YOUR SOUL

 the proposal he thinks is so grand

 he mentions it two nights in a row 

 on night two, he gets out brass tacks:

 support me or go straight to Hell

 Hell may now be filled with Democrats

 and a lot more Republicans than expected 

From Alex Gibney VANITY FAIR interview re his Elon Musk documentary

 “If Musk makes it to Mars and begins his colony, is the damage that he’s caused on Earth all worth it?

No. He is exploding the planet. Putting Donald Trump in the presidency is exploding the planet. He’s put a completely reckless sociopath in charge of the most powerful country on earth. Yeah. And he’s intentionally destroying the planet for financial profit. And this whole idea of making us a multi-planetary civilization is fine. I was watching Apollo 11 on the plane on the way here. It was such an interesting watch because it was such a sort of innocent time compared to now, even though the president, of course, was Nixon. But even Nixon, as corrupt as he was, had this larger sense of national and human possibilities.

So no, I don’t think it’s worth it, but also it’s phony. It’s funny. It’s bullshit. There’s no way he’s going to Mars. It’s just bullshit.”

Excerpt From

“Elon Musk, Elizabeth Holmes, and Donald Trump Are All Alike, Says 'Musk' Filmmaker Alex Gibney”

Chris Murphy

Vanity Fair

https://apple.news/AY24hyNGkSKCzdh99xMUCJg

This material may be protected by copyright.

New Poem: HOW IT BEGAN

 there was this movie I worked on

 I was in terror, had resulting competency issues,

 received various variants of verbal abuse

 and I hung on until the official wrap

 plus the two days of additional shooting 

 told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to

 be helpless in the face of wrath ever again 

 so I engaged in decompression therapy 

 by writing an outline for a roman a clef novel

 about a fake blockbuster titled ALIENS OVER HOLLYWOOD 

 the venting process was entertaining 

 and took place over a few off-work days 

 at the Fairfax Farmers Market 

 where I would write on a legal pad

 and consume a small bag of raisins 

 and discover I was no Hemingway

 so, at the end of one creative session,

 I wrote a short mock-epic poem on jaywalking 

 it wasn’t good, but it made me consider 

 learning the craft of compact stylistic creation

 my early poems were monologues 

 and then I learned to be concise

 using both narrative and metaphor 

 and I kept writing despite 

 algorithms, changing tastes, 

 refusing to be on the “good side”

 of certain disagreeable crème de la crème 

a few poems of mine were anthologized

maybe someone will read them after I’m gone 

New Poem: YOU CAN GO HOME AGAIN

 you can go home again

 if you tell yourself it’s only temporary 

 see the closed stores and near-empty mall

 drive by the century-old high school 

 be surprised by the changes in old friends

 mourn the friends who decided to leave life entirely 

 buy a Pepsi Zero where the Dairy Queen once stood

 say hello to your family inhabiting the local cemetery 

 refuse to go near the house you grew up in 

 especially refuse to compare your aspirations to your actual life

 

 take your rental car back to the airport 

 all the while noticing big Texas skies

 plus the pastureland where camels once roamed 

New Poem: I CONFESS (52 YEARS LATE)

 wherever you are now

 please accept this belated apology 

 for sending a very 70s greeting card

 with a couple walking along a sunny beach

 containing this inscription:

 someday

 some way

 somehow

 I wasn’t a good listener at 15

 didn’t read unspoken social cues

 until the age of 21

 wherever you are now

 please forgive me

 for being presumptuous 

 and making unintended changes 

 in your later views of me

 

New Poem: Graham Platner Sings Behind Blue Eyes

 I blame you media

 I blame you Establishment Democrats

 My fist clenched I won’t crack it open

 Bernie withdrew his support, I look like a fool

 It’s not rape if you say pull out of me

 It’s not rape if I peel off my condom

 It’s not rape if I plow on and you have no birth control

 It’s not violence if I push you in a room and keep it shut

 My presenting as progressive dream is over

 And I won’t blame myself 

New Poem: SEMIQUINCENTENNIAL BLUES

 Should I buy, buy, buy

 Semiquincentennial crypto, crypto, crypto, crypto, 

 as in coins, no relation to Supergirl's doggie 

 Should I stand, stand, stand, stand, 

 stand in the streets of Manhattan?

Waiting outside, outside, outside, outside. 

Madison Square Garden, 

as Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce

hijack the upcoming Fourth of July. 

and make it all about a super duper, extra special 

wedding celebration of themselves, their individual brands 

and soon to be their married couples super brand

Should I, should I, should I, should I, watch

video of Donald Trump talking about Teddy Roosevelt,

and a bunch of men dressed up as Rough Riders

Just like the people dressed up in bib overalls

watching hillbilly fascist Andy Griffith

playing Lonesome Rhodes in A FACE IN THE CROWD

Should I, should I, should I, should I watch video 

of the empty great American state fairgrounds? 

And watch that with Donald Trump asking fake RoughRiders

Do you have a 401 K?

playing in the background of my mind

Should I do that? Must I do that? 

I'd rather just look outside at the fireworks display 

and remember the great experiment of democracy 

with all its virtues and failings 

especially the failings of stolen land genocide and racism

And then remember the gains civil rights, women’s rights 

and people that came to America 

to achieve better futures for themselves and others,

and have done the very, very best 

to make America, something more beautiful and united

than the Trump and Stephen Miller acts of terror and destruction 

I just hope, against hope, that the experiment called America

will survive and improve in time for the tricentennial,

 a long ways away,

 2076.

DONALD TRUMP’S GREATEST AMERICAN STATE FAIR HITS

1. Algae Stay Away From My Reflecting Pool

2. Iran War So Far Away From Me 

3. No Asylum For You

4. It’s My Party (Lesley Gore cover)

5. I Feel Fine (Beatles cover)

6. I Vote By Mail But You Can’t 

7. What I Think About Bill Cassidy (Explicit Content Advisory)

8. America Do Exactly As I Say

New Poem: SCOTT PELLEY REQUIEM

 yes it was going to happen

 Black Thursday was the original cannonball 

 heads metaphorically removed

 change ordered for the appearance of change

 for the apparent pleasure of Skydancer Son of Oracle 

 (and I’m old enough to remember other newsmagazines 

 morphed  to more profitable true crime shows

 but CBS already has 48 Hours)

 so when Bari stayed away on purpose

 that Nick and Bari’s flunky could display

 copious amounts of hyper-thin skin

 the words YOU ARE TERMINATED FOR CAUSE

 were chiseled on the Black Rock walls

 later, we may see a few not worrying about job security 

 willing to sacrifice themselves, saying I Am Scott Pelley Too

DONALD TRUMP’S GREATEST FREEDOM 250 HITS

 1. Don’t Stop Me Now 

 2. Au Revoir Trump Kennedy Center

 3. Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?

 4. Where Have All The Musicians Gone?

 5. I Didn’t Shake The World Today (Burt Reynolds cover)

 6. My Health Is What I Tell People To Say It Is

 7. Handshake Blues 

Paul McCartney’s Dungeon Lane isn’t quite what it’s marketed as

THE BOYS OF DUNGEON LANE is alright, not great—par for the course of late-period Paul McCartney solo albums.  Due to Sir Paul’s now-advanced age, Paul-does-no-wrong fans are being extra protective and sticking their collective fingers into pairs of ears worldwide.

DUNGEON LANE was hyped as McCartney taking an album-length look at his childhood/early teen years in Liverpool.  Less than half the album is devoted to this subject matter.  The rest includes standard love songs, two musical numbers apparently created for the now-dormant IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE musical, the okay intended-for-live-performances Come Inside and a thankfully non bombastic closing song Momma Gets By, a distant cousin to Lady Madonna which digs a little deeper lyrically than most of what precedes it.

Andrew Watt, who’s now his generation’s answer to Don Was in the 90s (producer who tries to make heritage acts modern-friendly), produces sympathetically, with nods to Rick Rubin, Jeff Lynne and 60s George Martin—plus recording Paul’s voice to obscure the upper register quaver now unavoidable in his live shows.

Here’s my Spotify playlist of Paul looking back on his youth:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/067gJQ0mMOoErDKld0jFqs?si=l9vcLB5HQNawpzZeU6dgAQ&pi=R2rXk8S_Q9qct

KASH PATEL AT PEARL HARBOR

 is he FBI or an influencer in Fed’s clothing

 let’s put aside the alcohol and Olympics fanboying

 go right to Pearl Harbor where government employees

 people doing hard jobs, writing to loved ones on the mainland 

 soldiers/sailors who died and are permanently entombed 

 and in the great beyond, they shake their heads wondering why

 this unqualified clown is snorkeling where their remains lie 

New Poem: BILLION DOLLAR BALLROOM

 carry that photo like a shield

 default to the dream to avoid reality

 stuck in a war you can’t end easily 

 >

 when did you buy the White House

 when did you rename it D.C. A Lago

 why are you so vain feckless destructive 

 will this extravagant ballroom display

 TRUMP in golden neon on the roof 

New Poem: COME APART TOGETHER

 six injustices danced their mess around 

 Inside chambers of not so Supreme Court

 dig up and reanimate Jim Crow

 Roberts and his Feckless Five ruled for disorder

 Clarence pulled up the Black vote ladder

 Trump Court saying this is what it is now

 we made it harder to fight 

 what you mere citizens believe isn’t right

New Poem: THE KING AND THE FALSE KING (written version)

 

His majesty comes from Great Britain 

To take the other king to school regarding checks and balances

What power is and isn’t

What democracy should be

The American would be king rudely walks in front of the British king, 

The British king, hangs his head, hangs his head (of course Mr. Trump would do that to me)

Everybody, in America, watches the King's Congressional Speech

Wherever they choose: CSPAN, news channels, 

We’re so glad to have a respite from the false American king and his bloviating 

Plus his urge to use the Correspondents Dinner as the jaw bone of vengeance

While the rumor of possible Secret Service friendly fire isn’t a subject 

Making an impact inside the minds of the journalists 

Covering the real king and the faux king. at the wonderful state dinner.

New Playlist: THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO DONALD TRUMP

 1. JESUS CHRIST POSE (Soundgarden cover with altered lyrics)

 2. IF I WAS THE POPE (Bruce Springsteen cover with altered lyrics)

 3. HOW GREAT I AM

 4. I’VE KNOWN NO WAR ((The Who cover)

 5. JESUS HE KNOWS ME (Genesis cover)

 6. JACOB’S LADDER (Bruce Hornsby cover with altered lyrics)

 7. I’M NOT JESUS, I’M JUST A DOCTOR

 8. WALKING ON THE STRAIT OF HORMUZ

 9. CRUCIFIED BY THE MIDTERMS 

New Poem: HERE UNTIL ELSEWHERE

 here until elsewhere

 here until taken there

 make something work

 while you have the chance

 get something done

 better than wishing and wanting

 visit the old places

 be happy with the good memories 

 go somewhere new

 keep your faculties alive

 don’t believe everything’s behind you

 and there’s nothing left to do

 but dissipate in ritual silent regret 

 while you still can

 make the best of

 the here you have

 before elsewhere whisks you away

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