Won't you stop picking on me.

Today the Blithe Society showed their indifference towards the issue of breast cancer by hosting a mens wiffle ball tournament. The 'Athletes' came through, some by bus and some by mom's van. Clearly among the experienced, domination was the goal. The rest wondered why their sister-in-law required them to wear a pink  bracelet to the game. Regardless, there was a hill full of late 20 something pregnant women shouting upon their heroic donators. 

Sandretto didn't have a baby yet, or even one on the way. She was on the hill among the others but resigned herself to a picnic blanket with the best view of the man she once loved. She had a dog. She told it ' Not yet. ' as she chewed baby tomatoes to the tune of the puppies up turned ears. 

Water relieves itself until it becomes fluid. 

Charge your ipod.

I saw Gary the other day, you know Mr. Larson. He was sitting on the curb out side of a bank with a peeling sign and shuttered windows. He was still showing up to work even though the bank had gone under 4 years ago. He said he was excited about the Olympics coming up in London, and was complaining about fading memories and constant headaches. Gary rolled up his right sleeve and burned a forgotten cigarette into his forearm casually. He said he really admired the Queen. Gary stood up and walked past me toward a black car that pulled up for him. "That's my ride." he said and waved goodbye.

He rolled down the back window and stuck out his nose and glasses. He tossed out a Virginia license plate. "Just follow the sun." He advised. The black car peeled away into dust.

the world pines without your poetry

i want to

who's impatient for that conversation to dissolve?

i don't know. i don't... it's my, i was, my, my

my thumb crashed that car, but not a soul was hurt.

so, i'm telling you, the arch in the financial district

has bats - it has them!

they are there! what's not getting through your drunken skull?

okay, okay, darkness for one thing, the marine corps, and then the way coast guard buzzed by...

but SO WHAT?

listen! ten dollars today, fifteen on saturday, and then after the $300 on sunday

we'll both be roller coaster operators.

you don't know him. 

he's not going to tell you anything you're uncomfortable with.

you just sleep together, get it over with, have a fun night. 

talk to your friends, plan, get dressed, call him once you've had a few drinks.

in ten minutes a chinese man will explode all over your front door.

and that's fine, you know what? that's cool. the worst is over. it's going to work out. 

you know, haha? 

you just know, right?

bottom of ices

1.

when i was 16 and felt lonely and sad

and lay awake listening to the grateful dead on headphones 

- the black pine branches waving, the

lawn glowing with moonlight behind them -

there was a quick joy in it.

2.

a tiny speck jumps from spot to spot

on the wall hit by lamp light

distracted, i push my finger down on it

close up, its a beautiful neon-green bug

3.

the smooth skinned 

tumble by the rolling pin

and they don't have to think 

about what i'm thinking about

Thats Life

Pinkish drink filled European faces, with blood scattered over North America, South Africa, Ireland, England, Australia, and New Zealand are using Asia's educational system as a boon. Imported vessels of the english language wander astray in the land of the morning calm, waiting and drinking at the ports. Pinkish foreign mechanical devices naturally inclined to speak a language that literally translates into cash, move shiftlessly between borders.  

It's a quiet war being fought with culture. After decades of commercial air raids we are here to reinforce the television. Where this cross cultural experiment leads is anyone's guess. Globalization? Or is it just a symptom? The private english school industry is huge. The schools occupy every block of our city. One after the other, more dominant than any fast food restaurant or novelty shops are the 'Hagwans' churning out Asians that memorized Incisors, Canines and Molars.

low root levels

crying because of their dirty hats, the mountains loitered with the clouds.

cotton = death cloth, read one sign; 

birthday boys extend and collapse in all quadrants when ascending. 

facing the north winds, he said, no one ever takes that trail .

they emerge - angry chocolate-bar-eaters - from the woods.

the forests spied on their packs

and were indifferent towards their attitudes.

a high wind poises four statues there. 

i don't know the range, the junctions, or the bird songs.

people gasp out of nowhere and sit on top.

the tooth, thousands of feet in the air, folds them into the frying pan.

the breakfast in the mountains lifts your eyebrows at their joints, wakes

the toothbrushing and says reuse the dish before washing. 

i'm going all in on this and the anchor moves down.

the dark, yawning fridge hurls a cool sound of falling water.

a calmer tooth crosses the mouth,

a bottle stones the back,  and the sitting on the dry hay mashes the dirt. 

discreetly, tack, vault and pin the rocky point - that edge of the island

floating under my eyebrows. 

mashed up in the car, done with the paper, we grimaced

as our shoulder held the bite blocking us out. 

The Tv Temple

Don't question your self. Question your surroundings.

Your legs and feet keep your balance without saying a word to your brain. Focus on your breathing. Observe the trees dance with the wind. Listen to the insects and birds in free form jam.Music is what it is. 

Court Backs Bush on Military Detentions

"They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety."

          ---Benjamin Franklin 

This article was tucked neatly away at the bottom of the New York Times newspaper. It is a less than subtle reminder of the fascist state that America is becoming, or has become. 

President Bush has the legal power to order the indefinite military detentions of civilians captured in the United States, the federal appeals court in Richmond, Va., ruled on Tuesday in a fractured 5-to-4 decision.

The decision was a victory for the Bush administration, which had maintained that a 2001 Congressional authorization to use military force after the Sept. 11 attacks granted the president the power to detain people living in the United States.

The court effectively reversed a divided three-judge panel of its own members, which ruled last year that the government lacked the power to detain civilians legally in the United States as enemy combatants.

Ali Al-Marri is the only person on the American mainland known to be held as an enemy combatant. The government contended, in a declaration from the defense intelligence official, Jeffrey N. Rapp, that Mr. Marri was a Qaeda sleeper agent sent to the United States to commit mass murder and disrupt the banking system.

Mr. Marri was arrested on Dec. 12, 2001, in Peoria, Ill., where he was living with his family and studying computer science. He was charged with credit-card fraud and lying to federal agents, and was on the verge of a trial on those charges when he was moved to military detention in 2003.

“This decision means the president can pick up any person in the country — citizen or legal resident — and lock them up for years without the most basic safeguard in the Constitution, the right to a criminal trial,” said Jonathan L. Hafetz, a lawyer for Mr. Marri.

Mr. Marri’s unusual situation played a role, said Robert M. Chesney, a law professor atWake Forest University. Mr. Marri “was lawfully present in the U.S. and then arrested and held here, as opposed to being a noncitizen captured in a foreign land,” Professor Chesney said. “This consideration makes his case more difficult even in the eyes of relatively conservative jurists.”

“This does not mean that al Marri, or similarly situated American citizens, would have to be freed,” Judge Motz wrote. “Like others accused of terrorist activity in this country they could be tried on criminal charges and, if convicted, punished severely." 

In the conclusion of his long opinion, Judge Wilkinson said terrorism cases presented courts with special challenges.

“We may never know,” he said, “whether we have struck the proper balance between liberty and security, because we do not know every action the executive is taking and we do not know every threat global terror networks have in store.”

where health care can't save you

health care can't save your soul.

the doctor says sentimental things on the back of
obstinate timetables.

you can die in a way that no one will be sad or miss you.

i'm so sad though!

you can die in the health care system and not even
think about your soul during your last 3 weeks.

the doctor spent 3 weeks sad enough to remember obstinate timetables don't repair movement to the human condition.

that was the end of the doctor's life, no one will miss you,
and i'm so sad i can't philosophize the presence of a soul.

health care doctors exude harmonies you can't. my doctor harmoniously
diagnosed me with suffering. i am suffering from a certain type of oil.

i read and read and i just don't get it.
in all of the 3 weeks i wasn't trying to get on top of it.
we all need obstinate timetables for reading. they will
push you down into the pocket from the outside.
you will be in the inside point of the pocket
and still feel busy.
if you can still feel busy without an obstinate timetable,
then you are surviving without health care.

millions of people go through the system. you have to think,
'i'll only know if i try it for myself'.

he said, '---- everything.' his lively motion exudes a mumbled comment.

the black fencing of the city parks coalesce the gloom
between health care and time.

she redigests most of the readings.
only the dangling spiral staircase that doesn't reach the floor, the city park fences, a gloom, and a questionable health care system are lively and moving.

Nam Gang

Oh how I want to be the man I used to be. 

A river's fascinating rhythm takes over me. 

Wake's insensitive glare and ivory keys

turned sun to pale to Portuguese.

One day you'll be thinking

to represent nothing but blinking. 

Palm over eyes and ears

waiting years for big skies

bleached with faith and lies. 

Oh how I want to be the world I used to be.