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Open

I walk bare

out in the open

on borrowed land|stolen

to be returned to the people, to all be-ings, to them

with my bones or ash interred, one day

the Sun, Moon, Rain, Wind, Clouds, Sky and Stars
kiss me at all hours

did you see me open up
this Autumn?

after a Summer spent crying,
wet, yet fruitless

spent Spring wading into lies instead of soft blossoms and new grass
Winter approaches, maybe the frost will kill this disease,
for good

For now, I bathe

nearly naked in sunshine, cold rainstorms, wetland pools and moonlight

unapologetically

|out in the open|

unabashedly

baptising
my face,
hair,
and eyes,
my breasts
vulva
and legs,
my lips,
throat,
spine,
and my wild heart

ceremonially, first
with wine, like Magdalene, anointing and anointed,
in the name of the mother, Sun and holy ghosts
|cabernet henna|
then, with rainwater from the willow’s edge, like Ophelia,
lying in the woodland and meadow, flooded
to cleanse or drown [to be, or not to be]
in the name of the Moon

|I ponder the stone cistern laden with glacial deposits and ruminant bones|

the woodland is abundant with new mushroom, new overnight growth

[puhpowee]

the hint of ancient circles supplants my judgment with instinct
and overrides decorum with new delights
| and old delights, revisited |

an aged grapevine is rooted deep, climbing, trailing, snaking
hidden in plain sight, everywhere
and I’ve intuited It as Ol’ Scratch,
I take a hatchet to quell Its influence, here

You,
Your windows are not true eyes
Your lamps are not enlightenment

So, bless the dark

of the night

of the country night sky

And the Moonset

of my moon

it’s been decades,
but
this place wants to birth or impregnate
me,

and I want that too
i want it to

|I come here and open up|

 

 

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le claire [street]

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A clear glimpse
A clear thought
on this clear June night

Of age,
and Alzheimer’s
An old-timer’s disease

A clear memory recorded and archived tonight
An acute awareness of myself
tonight, in time and place
a new track to play on loop for a listener in my future life

a husband, friend, or son
a caregiver, a kind one
a visitor, volunteer, or nurse,
a grandson, or maybe, no one

A reddish dog, eating mulberries
from the sidewalk in shadows
Mottled concrete in the dim light of a city street lamp
obscured by the canopy of that beautiful, June, fruit tree

A woman, middle aged, seems so young, even a tad pretty, in her mind’s eye
Stretching her still strong body upward for plump, dark berries
Reaching for branches trimmed too high by the urban foresters
or arborists or surgeons, I forget what they’re called

On her tippy toes
grabbing, pulling, picking
squeezing the dog’s leash between her thighs
don’t get loose in the dark, don’t get skunked in the dark

Some of the best ones are lost in the awkward tussle
before she can palm them, save them, taste them
She triggers a reverberative rain from boughs on high
That precise, delicate sweetness of the bounty in her mouth

The dog’s belly full of the ripe windfall
sustained by both gravity and woman
His name was Woody, or Digby, I think
He used to climb into our sleep

Smashed and whole
The street, sidewalk and cars stained
by the impressive purple mess
the dark grass hiding perfect treasures for doves tomorrow morn

She and that dog
Always urban foragers and gleaners in June
All month long, her fingertips, heels and lips
tinted with their fuchsia dye, didn’t think to check his paws

A clear, melancholy recollection
This day, that day was also her son’s birthday
The first birthday he spent away from home, Nebraska, or Alaska, I think
That glorious tree, that good dog, that golden boy

 


The Rise of the American Reich led by Donald Trump

The Rise of the American Reich




 


the Sixth day

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We are in the know
We are in love

We are in love with absolute strangeness
Strangers weaving desperate bits of truths with swatches of lies and patches of mystery together
into idols of flesh-like beings ready to exist in the garden of the unknown
We begin as avatars,
with our hollows filled in with wishfulness and wistfulness
Our first chore: fashion a blanket from our shared thoughts and song
and beneath it, together
We’ll conceal our new being from them, for a while
Conceal our new world from them, for a while

Our whole, true selves rarely revealed
to each other,
or to the other-others
to our-selves

Who are You?
I think,
Better to not know your You,
Not wanting to dispel the myth
of the You I’ve created: my You
Not wanting to deconstruct the perfectly vague architecture
of the You I’ve created: my You
Wanting You only as my own creation
knowing You, owning You, or owing You
or revealing to You,
can never be what I have conjured on my side of our bed,
under our cover, in our garden

Making You up whole,
completing You with my imagination
is godlike,
You, the Adam
I, the Creator and the Ethereal Eve
I give you the role you think you want
But just for this remote rendezvous

A scripted dialogue has gone awry with dangerous improvisation
A genesis of intangible intimacy, here,
Your being and words disembodied, afar,
is enough, for now.

To know You,
whole and complete and present
as [hu]man Incarnate
Near,
Potential,
Warm,
Muse
The angels hold their breath
What will she [i] [they] do?

For now, in the now, I am curiously
content in this undetermined, undefined serving of You
whether,
an apple to bite, to taste,
or an orchard for my harvest

 

 


Homogentricommodifization

I’ve just finished listening to Benjamen Walker’s Theory Of Everything podcast “New York After Rent” – he completed a three part series on Airbnb and the “commodification of every square inch of the city”. He posits that Airbnb (Air Bed and Breakfast), a room/housing short-term rental app service, which began in 2008 in NYC may be responsible for changing the face of entire blocks and neighborhoods of NYC – and of urbanity itself – for the worse.

The Broadway musical “Rent” which ended its run in 2008, is a running theme throughout the series, but for those who never saw “Rent” (which includes the producer/narrator and myself), it’s actually ancillary to this series. But for “Rent” and NYC fans alike, the famous, real-life Life Cafe featured in “Rent” and other beloved or famous NYC neighborhood icons are gone or going, and they are not coming back any time soon; and for that, we can thank the “sharing” economy and gentrification — which tends to displace 31+ original (yet, not aboriginal) flavors of people and their original (yet, not aboriginal) histories, experiences, art, talents, personalities and cultures with just two or three flavors – and instead offers, as a salve of sorts, the choice of 31+ fucking flavors of cupcakes, sushi, cronuts, artisan burgers and craft brews and welcomes ubiquitous retail chain stores – catering specifically to tourists and suburbia’s immigrant short-timers.

Authentic sharing, lest we forget, is borrowing a cup of sugar or a stick of butter, a tool, a ladder, or a bit of expertise or advice; giving away plant cuttings from houseplant or a garden or a kitten from your cat’s litter; lending lawn chairs, an evening dress or camping gear for a weekend; subletting a room or borrowing an unused bike for the summer; raising a barn, doing a brake job, helping to paint a room or build a deck for a future quid pro quo; or dog-sitting or babysitting for a friend, neighbor or relative. BUT the [false] sharing economy is an intentional misnomer — it is lucrative and far, so very far, from sharing. Instead of each transaction (whether a payment is involved or not) happening between two or more individuals or parties (acquainted or not), the app’s middleman claims his toll — a generous commission for connecting the user to an unknown party — because his app’s innovative design, cool interface and purported ease/safety of its use replaces the interpersonal, friend of friend, proximity, word or mouth, or bulletin board connection – or even the old-fashioned advertisement in the weekly neighborhood newspaper’s back pages (which now consists of mostly foreclosure notices). It’s about monetizing every possible type of transaction – and Wall $treet is all up in it — or $alivating ahead of future IPOs, for 525,600 minutes per year, every year, into perpetuity.

Walker and a few of the urban and sociology experts he interviews assert that the advent of Airbnb along with the continuing gentrification of NYC, i.e., the ongoing transfer of affordable housing from lower-incomed, but multi-faceted and diverse tenants to the “economically functional” who are willing and able to pay higher rents – those who are homogenized via income, education and provenance has resulted in the homogentricommodifization (my new, clumsy word) of the many once colorful, flavorful, cultural NYC neighborhoods. Because, what suburbanite immigrants – who claim to crave city life for a visit or to put down shallow roots after college until they eventually move back to suburban or urban perimeter enclaves – really want is mirror image neighbors, mirror image aesthetics and comfortable, suburban privacy and security, and that translates not into urbanity, but into banality.

Walker talks to Sarah Schulman, author of the 2012 book “The Gentrification of the Mind”, who argues that the “rampant suburbanization and commodification” of NYC is destroying its “physical and spiritual infrastructure” — that the diversification of experience, race, class, education, culture, sexuality, talent, religion, ethnicity and nationality anchored with the infrastructure of affordable apartments and public transit and buttressed with integrity in the city zoning and planning comprise the true “urbanity [which] teaches us every single second of every single day [of every single year — 525,600 minutes] that other people are DIFFERENT [from us] and that knowledge — is crucial for creating new ideas for the future …”

Airbnb, Uber, Lyft, and ubiquitous cupcakes, mega-sports bars, Walgreens, Dunkin’ Donuts, Urban Outfitters and Forever 21s are the antithesis of urbanity or at least, supplant the familiar urbanity with something lesser — and which already exists in the suburbs: suburbanity.

This series is worth listening to for those who love cities or want to understand cities, and those who have bought into, reject, or question the “sharing economy”.