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 THE WAY YOU CHOOSE TO LIVE

 For people I know from Texas

 retired from work

 children are hard working adults

 living with grandchildren in another state

 chose not to move from hometown 

 visit nephews and nieces

 don’t talk politics with siblings

 go along get along over and over

 not ready for a future when

 a niece is impregnated by rape

 for now, homey Facebook posts

 with friends from college

 and comments ending with lol

Bill Maher okay with racial profiling of Muslim teen students.

http://www.mediaite.com/tv/maher-battles-guests-on-ahmed-mohamed-be-cautious-when-young-muslims-are-blowing-sht-up/

Sometimes--especially in the age of Colbert, Oliver and Wilmore--it's difficult to like Bill Maher when he digs in, ignores opposing views and quadruples down on his racial/terrorism fears and rants on "political correctness."

I wonder if this is a continuing overcompensation to/apology for his post-9/11 comments on POLITICALLY INCORRECT--in effect saying the terrorists couldn't be described as cowards because they did not carry out their attack from a remote location.

From 2005: POST-HURRICANE POEM about Katrina.

POST-HURRICANE POEM

As Orwell said, “some people are more equal

than others”.

Kanye West found that out when NBC censored him

for speaking the “inappropriate” truth about

George W. Bush not caring about black people.

He found it out again when he performed a song

at another telethon and the microphone just happened

to malfunction for part of the first verse.

The people of New Orleans found that out when they

were left to fend for themselves for days,

in overcrowded shelters and praying to God that someone

would take them off the roofs of their flooded homes

before death arrived.

Those of us watching TV at home have found out

that hard-news lapdog Ted Koppel was willing

to put just about all of the blame for Louisiana’s misery on the Governor

and the New Orleans mayor and let the White House skate away

from the emasculation of FEMA and the cutting of funds to strengthen the levees.

But Ted got to be embedded with the troops in Iraq-

and he can’t dare be rude to the White House

and lose Access to power.

We’re also finding out that a state with a Republican governor

-my former home state of Texas-

doesn’t have difficulty getting a more rapid

Federal response to hurricane threats.

Of course we can’t risk losing the refineries.

The refineries are important;

all the rest is merely collateral damage.

And we’re now finding out that the people from Houston

and the rest of South Texas that can afford to drive are

coming home to check on their property-defying a

“voluntary” order to return in orderly fashion.

Presumably, Federal troops won’t make them return

to their previous temporary residences.

Last of all, we found out that some moral cretin

I won’t name here credited God with clearing what he

termed undesirable people from New Orleans.

Perhaps he wants New Orleans to be rebuilt

as a gentrified theme park with the poor replaced by

grossly underpaid guest workers from Mexico

on 6-month-only work visas

and no African Americans

unless they’re people like Bill Cosby, Chris Rock, Larry Elder or Allen Keyes-

people who are eager to distance themselves from the poor

and suffering and say that the misery of the Underclass

is the sole fault of the Underclass.

Some people ARE more equal than others.

And global warming will be an important part

of the New World Order

determining who will live and who will die.

New poem: CLASSIC TEXAS

I took a good look around my hometown
of vacant lots and empty buildings
but drove too slow and a policeman followed me
in a police SUV up to a stop sign
where the driver to the right
ran through another stop sign
>
and the policeman didn't chase that driver
but turned right after we turned left
>
we then drove to the family home
after passing by junior high
turned into eight-year school
because someone persuaded the town
to close the elementary school
and build what looked like converted trailers
on the junior high property
>
the billboards on the highway
paint my hometown
as a cozy place
where tourists can exit
and spend an hour or two
>
once upon a time,
until around 1969,
it qualified as that place
>
now take a good look around
then see the policeman behind you
and prepare to maybe get a ticket
so the town can have money
to keep breathing

New poem: GALVESTON 1966

everything's big when you're small:
the Jack Tar Motor Hotel restaurant
with the window view onto the swimming pool
Stewart Beach where my grandfather
and I took a rented float
out onto the waves
and I swallowed salt water
for the first time
and spit it out fast
the apocalyptic argument
my older brother had
with everyone else in the car
because he was forced to vacation
with the rest of the family
at the age of sixteen
instead of seeing his girlfriend back home
and, on the beach,
my dad pointed to
the pillbox installed
to protect the island
during World War II

all over the outside
of the pillbox
one could see
the words SENIORS 67
and GHS
spray-painted in red and black