New Poem: WHAT THE EGO WEIGHS

according to the egotist,
it's as light as a feather
from the point of view
of the egotist's victim,
it's a giant, intended as
soul crushing boulder
the egotist heaves
in hopes the victim,
as he tries to write his way
back to daylight,
will abandon all aspiration
and die alongside the skeletons
of practitioners of verse
the egotist feared would become
eventual competition
if given encouragement
and true consideration

New Poem: ROLL AWAY THE STONE

Sisyphus was often admonished
for not knowing
and not learning what good was
and the literary stone
rolled over him numerous times
because he didn't follow the approved method
of pushing it up the hill
and locking it firmly
in its ornate display case

Eventually. the stone rolled on top of Sisyphus
and an eminent person in the crowd cried out
YOUR DEATH CAN'T COME SOON ENOUGH
causing the crowd to grow silent and back away
from Sisyphus the impulsive apostate
who couldn't roll the literary stone just right

Sisyphus eventually accepted
the verdict of the crowd
cued by eminent person's disgust:
he was unclean,
donned the garments of a leper,
and greatly reduced his public profile

When eminent person climbed
to Mount Olympus and never returned,
Sisyphus heard the crowd's lamentations,
acknowledged eminent person's kindness to others,
and looked into a mirror free of distortion

He no longer saw uncleanliness
or disfiguring scars
caused by the stone's weight

Too many years had passed
a form of clarity arrived
Sisyphus realized he didn't have to push
the same stone up the same hill
as everyone else

Now, he was free

Ready to experience actual sunlight
instead of artificial darkness

Revised Older Poem: HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD 2004

Hilary Duff sings “let the rain fall down”
over the public-address system
as I walk through the courtyard
of the Hollywood and Highland shopping center.

It’s a beautiful day.

I cross Hollywood Boulevard and there's
Gandalf the Wizard (or someone dressed like him)
talking to members of a crowd
staring at the front of Grauman’s Chinese.

They're waiting for the stars
(Rebecca Romijn-Stamos and Greg Kinnear)
to arrive at the Chinese for the premiere of GODSEND.

Everyone in Hollywood seems genuinely friendly.

The aspiring rapper passing out copies of his CD single;
the waitress who calls me “honey” at the California Pizza Kitchen;
the young man who gives out free passes to Jimmy Kimmel Live;
the silver-suited elderly evangelist who smiles
when he says that I run the risk of going to Hell without Jesus.

My days are spent wandering through Hollywood-
seeing the “modern” shopping areas surrounded
by grunge and occasional disrepair.

Nights are consumed with watching DVDs
on a portable player in my room
at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.

So far, I’ve seen 20 movies-
everything from the grandeur of GIANT
to the schlock of WIN A DATE WITH TAD HAMILTON.

One night, I meet the ghost of Montgomery Clift,
who stayed at the Roosevelt
when filming FROM HERE TO ETERNITY.

Fortunately, the ghost is the young and beautiful Monty
from the era of RED RIVER and THE HEIRESS,
rather than the Monty ravaged by drink, drugs.
and a near-fatal auto accident.

Monty’s ghost stands a foot away from me.

He smiles at me, says “Don’t be afraid” and disappears.

I return to my room,
wondering if I heard a warning or a benediction.

Revised Older Poem: WHAT IS HELL?

WHAT IS HELL?

  

is Hell a place

like a shopping mall food court

where almost everything is closed

and you’re the only one

informally dining there

the elevators don’t work

the escalator is broken

and you can’t leave the mall

no matter how much you want to

or is it a bookstore

where you’re watching

an egocentric literary sensation

standing on a chair

and saying in body language

with volume turned up to 12:

YOU’RE NOT ME

AND YOU NEVER WILL BE

and you can’t leave the store

no matter how much you want to

or is Hell

that part of one’s mind replaying

this cognitive distortion mantra:

if it happened Before,

it will happen Once More,

and you can’t stop dwelling

on sins of the long-distant past

or imagine a less calamitous future

and you can’t leave your house

no matter how much you want to

Hamilton Nolan on Joe Biden’s latest political life.

Excerpted from THE GUARDIAN:

I am not mad at Joe Biden. He is a type. His type is “The Old Way of Doing Things.” Now that he is in the race, his type is represented. He rounds out the field. Now, Democratic voters truly have the entire buffet of choices, from “True Leftist Insurgent” to “Bland, Winning Young Résumé-Polisher” to “Indistinguishable Ambitious Congresspersons” to “The Same Old Kind of White Guy As Always”.

This is nothing to fear. This is healthy. This is a perfect referendum on where our country is now. Joe Biden, the avatar of the past, believes that he’s well positioned because after the shock of the Trump years, people want to go back to where we were. Wrong. People want to go somewhere new. I fully expect Joe Biden to step out of his campaign headquarters and fall directly into the huge pit that has opened up as America moved tectonically to the left. There is nothing scary about the candidate that represents the political philosophy that produced in the public the deadly cynicism that gave us Donald Trump. This plain fact will never be accepted by the sort of people who believe that Joe Biden is the answer, because accepting it is an indictment of an entire generation of leaders who consider themselves quite successful.

The Republican party has long been a corrupt tool for serving the interests of the rich by lying to the poor; dwelling on their role in bringing us here is like scolding an alligator for biting off your hand after you stuck it in his mouth. The Democrats are the ones who were supposed to save us. It was their failure in this duty that allowed the catastrophes to pile up. They failed to stop the post-Reagan explosion of economic inequality; they failed to stop the militarism that has embroiled us in endless war; they failed to argue for things like healthcare and education as rights rather than purchases; they fed our most vulnerable citizens to an evil machine labeled “criminal justice” in exchange for votes from racists. They earned their turn in power by agreeing not to use that power for the common good. And here we are: incredibly divided, hopelessly unequal, justifiably sick of our broken institutions, and very, very angry.

Good luck on the campaign trail, Joe. You’re about to meet an America that has already left you behind. I’m sorry you’ll have to find out the hard way.

New Audio: 3 MEMORIES OF COLLEGE 1977

Poetry Video BERLIN TRAVEL POEM

https://youtu.be/KA_xnRocrpQ

TIME’s David French on Trump’s weakness.

Excerpt from TIME magazine column post-Mueller Report:

It’s difficult to overestimate the extent to which Trump’s appeal to his core supporters is built around the notion that — regardless of his other flaws — he possesses a core strength, a willingness to “fight” and an ability to strike a degree of fear in the hearts of his opponents. I live in the heart of Trump country in Tennessee, and I have consistently heard the same refrain from his most loyal supporters. Trump, as they say, “kicks ass.” He was the ultimate alpha male, a political version of Tony Soprano, a formidable boss who commands an army of loyal consiglieri. Cross him at your peril.

But now, thanks to the Mueller report, his “fights” look more like temper tantrums, and those closest to him — including low men like Lewandowski and far-more-noble men like former White House counsel Donald McGahn — understand that his fury is passing and his directives are unreliable, seemingly transitory and easily forgotten or disregarded.

Moreover, his vaunted personal judgment — an image cultivated through years of careful television production on The Apprentice — has been exposed as well. When one reads Robert Mueller’s account of Trump’s own campaign chair’s extraordinary efforts to maintain an encrypted connection to Ukrainian and Russian oligarchs, it’s plain that Trump was played. Paul Manafort used Trump’s gullibility as a business opportunity.