Democracy

The Brutalist (No spoilers here.)

Don’t read

the reviews.

Choose

to experience

without interference.

As adherents

to 

coherence,

we try 

to make sense

of the nonsense

that cruelty

induces

and reproduces

incessantly.

Patterns

familiar,

despite

the particular,

the resolute

brute

is a weed

at the root

who seeks 

repute

and power

above all.

The pall

ever thickening,

ever sickening,

ever quickening

the fall

that seems

impossible

for survival,

whose revival

is always

somewhere

here

and there

sometime

within the

rhyme

of history.

Or 

is it 

organic

matter

that’s the 

matter?

Like yeast,

the brutalist

beast

is like

a fungus

that lives

among us

fermenting.

Resenting

and unrelenting, 

misrepresenting,

circumventing

convention,

the contention

of reinvention

and prevention

of dissension

will always

play 

a part

for the brutalist,

whose

opposite

is the humanist.

With creativity

and resolve

we solve

for the time

being,

as humanely

and sanely

as possible.

Get comfortable

with selflessness.

It may not 

be painless,

but much less

painful

than the brutal

creeps

that creep

back

and attack,

when we slack

off.

You don’t

need a review

to understand

this new

iteration

of the old

intention

of the brutalist.

The cruelest

abide

on the side

of hate

or remain

indifferent

to the stain

of the persistent

brutalist

illusionist.

His Truth is Marching On

The Golden Age

of guiltless

gilt

is again

the rage

as the pendulum

tilts

away from

moderation.

The pull 

of bull*#@!

and excess

never felt less

tension

in an ongoing

extension,

despite apprehension,

of our historical

monarchical

attraction.

It’s the trappings

and happenings

of power

and endless

stuff

that make 

it so easy

to declare,

“enough

with compromise!

Super size

me!”

More 

is better. 

Greed is 

good.

Look 

what’s

happened

to 

the neighborhood.

Intrinsic

to our politics

and capitalistic

society,

is all consuming

consuming

all

mixed with

hypocritical

piety.

It always

feels worse,

this curse

of ours,

wanting

more

to store

or spend

at the expense

of innocence.

Alongside

the tide

of excessive

pride

and greed

is our 

profound

need

for individual

priority.

And now

notoriety 

is an identity

politics

crisis.

Attempts

at opportunity

for historically

oppressed

minority

communities,

is seen

as threatening

the integrity

of the 

majority

impending minority.

And how

best

to best

the rest

of us?

Outrage

us

with outrageousness

and muss

with the truth

regardless.

Some youth 

know this;

others don’t

access

facts,

much less

analysis.

And as youth

would

have it,

an easy

fix

is to nix

what’s been

and fall

in line

with rebellion.

Anger 

is simple

and made

pure

by

being sure

of owning

the truth.

Maybe

it’s not

youth

so much

as the immature

who wield

such power,

led

by that

towering

inferno.

Battle him!

For the sake

of the republic!

Remaining

democratic

is not automatic.

It requires

an all hands

on deck.

King

The King 

from Queens

is such

a drag

with his

endless

brag

and swag;

even taking

credit

for peace

in the Middle

East,

before taking

office

again,

when

in fact,

tact 

and negotiation

not merely 

inauguration

justify

celebration.

This MLK

Day

is certainly

ironic,

as the iconic

King

of nonviolent

protest

is bested

by the guy

whose cry

to make

America

great

again

will again

be sworn

in

as POTUS.

Not lost

on us

is the oath

taker’s

Oath Keepers

and other

creepers

who violently 

stormed

The Capitol,

now watch

triumphantly

as Trump

ceremoniously

takes the oath

of the presidency

half

heartedly

under a

rotunda

so famously

seen

as the scene

of desecration.

It’s an

inauguration 

I won’t watch

or care

to see

as the frigid

air

envelopes

more than

DC.

Maybe

it’s 

good

that we should

still celebrate

the great

MLK
today,

despite

the awkward

juxtaposition

with 

this inauguration.

This once

upon a time

I bend 

to the real

King

to bring

me inspiration;

not the aspiration

of a wannabe-

get outta jail

free-

king-like

presidency.

We learn

from

this history;

the good,

bad, and

ugly.

1/6: A Fractional Day

Myth, ritual

and symbol

are universal

cultural

experiences.

No matter

what society,

they provide

a feeling

of unity.

What happens

when we

disagree

and see the

symbols

differently?

Or consider 

the myth

less 

an archetype

than a lie,

if not

a lot

of hype?

And when 

a ritual,

once seen

as habitual,

is challenged

in its practical

sense,

the experience

actually

makes much

less

sense.

Here we are,

4 years hence,

since

a governmental

ritual

at The Capital

turned into

a capital

offense. 

The myth

of The Big Lie

and the coup

attempt

to deny

the count

to certify

the 2020

election,

has as

its symbol

the shaman

guy,

among the

other signifiers

of election

deniers.

1/6

is its

own 

homegrown

day

of infamy;

a reminder

that tyranny

begins

in one party

singularly,

without opposition

 institutionally,

or any 

accountability.

Myth, ritual,

and symbol

are as 

meaningful

as we make 

them.

In this

case,

cultural,

they also

reference

the actual

factual

fractious

reality

of a singular

day

in January.

Insist the truth

remains whole

in future

memory

to protect

our fragile

democracy.

Service Road

Walking

to his

inauguration.

Inflation.

Gas lines.

Nightline.

covering

the hostage

crisis

on tv.

Middle East

Peace

treaty.

A brand new

kind

of post

presidency.

Habitat

for Humanity.

Integrity

in elections,

interventions,

new conventions,

Carter

centered

on service.

Solar panels

on the roof

was proof

of 

commitment

to our

environment,

before

any other

president

(and the subsequent

one

removed them

from

The White House).

His mere

4 years,

most say

a disaster,

became

the prelude

to the attitude

of becoming

a master

builder

of a habitat

of humanity

for humanity;

The best 

acknowledgement

of a life

well spent

is to get

(back) on

the service

road

with integrity

and humility

building

a habitat

of and for

humanity.

The service

road

will always be

the access

route

for history.

Insurance Guise

A search 

is on

for 

the one

with a gun

who

in silence

killed

the insurance

head

of United

HealthCare.

A hit job

like the mob

might execute,

on a blue suited

CEO

feels so

unnerving.

But no more

so

than the swerving

headlines

from the front lines

in South Korea

and France,

where 

we look 

askance

at the dance

of power

grabbing

leaders

and the bottom

feeders

who enable.

Is Democracy

stable

or able

to withstand

such demand

as we see

globally?

There is

an odd

sense 

of masculinity

equated 

with brutality

that we see

clearly,

yet feels

unexpectedly

new.

Frustrated

and castrated,

the unsophisticated,

heavy handed,

strong man

brand

is in demand

(with support

of some

women)

and commanding

center stage.

It’s all the rage.

Literally.

This man’s

world

has unfurled

since the war

on terror,

now 

in the west,

where

the test

of autocracy

(and of course

hypocrisy)

in the guise

of democracy

is proving

all that was

projected.

Be wise

to the 

insurance

guise—

the faux

protector,

deflector,

projector,

denying

necessary

procedures.

The teachers

of history

are a mystery:

the anonymous

populous

who never

gave up

on the insistency

of true democracy.

Swing State

My state of mind,

I find,

swings between

despair 

and hope,

repair 

and NOPE—

I will never

submit

to THAT

which I know

to be

evil

and cynical

and also

cyclical

in the story

of people.

My apology

to history,

the people

who endured

before me,

as I blindly

thought

I was taught

that we are

always advancing.

And yet,

pendula 

swing;

never still,

as people

will

always

want 

change

and security.

In my immaturity,

I believed

I was conceived

in a world

so naive,

and that each 

generation

has more 

sophistication.

Survival

of the fittest

survives

the silliest

interpretation,

as though

those

who perished

in concentration

camps

or gulags

or at the hands

of thugs

anywhere

at anytime

were somehow

not clever

enough

or sufficiently

strong.

I was wrong.

How many

martyrs

have been made

of great

men

and the unknown

women

whose notions

caused commotions

and retreat

from promotions

of freedoms

barely perceptible,

held unacceptable,

untenable,

and therefore,

killed?

My current

state

of anxiety

swings

wildly

from hour

to hour,

fearing our

future,

and lamenting

our past.

History

has given

us everything,

and we are

swinging

at curve balls

and striking 

out.

This one

feels like

we might

swing

and miss.

and kiss

the whole

game 

goodbye. 

But as I

have stated

before,

I can’t ignore

the strategy

of hate

and fear,

for some,

a career,

so easy

to fall 

prey.

Election Day

feels so 

consequential;

even existential,

but life

will not 

suddenly

stop.

We may

enter

a new 

swing state

that may

bring

a slate

of new

legislation.

But like

millions

before

us,

who wouldn’t

ignore 

us,

they too

maintained

ideas

of progression

from which

each digression

when the pendulum

swings back,

feels like history

is pale

by comparison.

Yet the rhymes

or echoes

swinging

back

and forth

bring forth

for me

all of history;

not just

the infamous,

but the anonymous

people

who stood

for goodness

sakes

even when

the stakes

were life

and death.

For all 

the difference

tomorrow

will make,

for the sake

of those

I will never

meet,

I will treat

this state

of swinging

from or 

toward

something

familiar

or untoward

as an imperative

for a  more

creative

and inclusive

way to live.

Barreling Toward….

Every day

we’re barrel 

bombed

with crude

explosions,

inciting

emotions

and dread.

What used

to be

dead 

on arrival

maintains

survival

as a barrel

of laughs,

disregarding

gaffes,

using

the haves

to potentially staff

his administration.

He administers

sinister

sayings,

saying

he never

said such

things.

SO exhausting!

I saw

“9 Barrels”

for sale

everywhere

for “enhancing” 

your AR.

Closing the race,

Trump,

keeping pace,

with his incessant,

pre-pubescent

hyperbole,

suggested shooting

Liz Cheney.

In the face.

On the face

of it,

it’s sociopathic.

And whatever

magic

he displays

with his cosplays

and legal

delays,

the most

tragic

part of all

is the fall

of the once

party of

Lincoln,

now linked in

to every

shenanigan

because they

can.

To those

who can’t

support

Kamala

because of

Gaza,

please know

that your

position

won’t show.

If you value

democracy

and decency,

then voting

in privacy

AGAINST
MAGA

would allow

a chance

to use your

stance

in the future.

If we truly

value

disagreement

and compromise,

then one

size

will not fit all.

It’s a tall

order.

The willingness

to tolerate

and not be obstinate,

means imperfection.

Perfection

can not be

the enemy

of the good.

But Trump is. 

Garbage Man

Regardless how much

billionaires 

invest in 

The Don,

he’ll wear

the neon

orange 

vest

to attest

to his

(faux) working

classless

appeal.

The Garbage Man

dumps

recyclable

material

from real

20th century

fascists;

a practice

of malice

and 

some sort

of phallus

obsession.

He talks

trash

to amuse

himself

to disabuse

himself

of his fears

and what’s

left of his

years,

but mostly,

for attention.

Each election

there’s always

a mention

that we get

who we 

deserve.

From what 

I observe,

this is 

far from 

true,

as we are

and

can continue

to be 

much more

than

the refuse

of the guy

who refuses

to buy

into 

a society

of decency.

His costume

was lame,

but also

the name

of his 

game;

a fitting

closing

statement

to the argument

for which

he stands,

atop

of the spoiled

and soiled

enjoying

the recoiled

until

he’s foiled.

The rest

of us

are the sanitation

workers,

who will

clean up

long after

the election.

“Hard work

is good work,”

Kamala reminds,

and finds

there is much

good that

we should

and will

in deed

need

to continue

to do 

together.

All the anxiety

in our society

is real

despite

conspiracies.

If democracy’s

our destiny

then it seems

best to me

to seriously

lean in

and actively

participate.

Make your

voice heard

against

the absurd

and dangerous,

venemous,

outrageous 

who seek

to out rage

us.

The Garbage

Man

will do what

he can,

but he will

ultimately

lose

(hopefully Tues.),

even if not

a clean sweep.

Don’t stay

stuck

in all 

the muck;

take some

actions

despite

loud factions

who want

you to

believe

you can’t.

Yes,

we still

can

be better

than 

what’s been,

and dump

MAGA

and Trump

to the dustbin.

I won’t give in

to the love

of hate

and fear

that seems

to appear

everywhere.

American Democracy

is a verb;

an action,

ongoing;

a life

worth choosing-

not abusing-

and cleaning up

along the way.

MSG

In The Garden,

The Paradise

lost,

the cost

of democracy

too great,

hate

was cherished

as the climate

perished; 

slashing

and burning

while feeding

the yearning

for owning

the Libs.

And the actual

owners

of the factual

papers

in DC

and LA

chose not

to say

whom they

endorse-

another coarse

event

in this course

of events:

a course

on what

prevents

democracies

from thriving.

The striving,

conniving,

and disdain

reign

freely,

while the wealthy-

greedy

are the most

needy

in their

reality.

The love

of fear,

hate,

and retribution

was considered

contribution

in The Garden

event.

I’m spent,

yet must

invent

ways 

to circumvent

the craze

over the next

several

days,

and the after-

math,

despite

the math,

of election night.

It’s the fright

in sight,

or that

I can 

envision,

that the division

so heinous

and obvious

that the rest

of us

feel helpless

after 

having voted,

is like 

living

inside

a loaded

gun.

But that’s

what’s 

fun

if you’re

one

of the MAGA

dramarama.

The MSG
was hopefully

too hyper

tensive

and unhealthy

for a majority

of Americans.

The shenanigans

are still

serious,

as those

delirious

pursue

the view

that a new

America

is overdue,

which looks

white

and pregnant.

None of it

is funny

or sunny

in that 

Garden

of evil

that they

say is 

good.

But we 

should not

let their love

of fear

be ours too.

The MSG
additive,

so addictive,

is the loathing

and fear

and simple

smear

that requires

merely

hate.

I will not

satiate

myself

with bottom

shelf

MSG

only

to feel

hungry

for more.

The legacy

you leave

is not

your blame,

but your

love

and care;

and that

you dared

to not 

despair,

but insist

we repair

with love

above

all else.