In 2010 I finally achieved it, my career pinnacle to date--university instructor. Five years after obtaining my Master's, I was deemed acceptable to teach developmental composition to students at Cal State Dominguez Hills, an opportunity made possible by a Federal grant meant to shore up and advance… Read full post »

I have been to Portland, and I am awed.

In pursuit of employment as an English college instructor, I traveled to Portland for a week to get the lay of the land.

And I must say that it is truly awesome.

 For one thing, people are really, really nice in… Read full post »

OWS is over, according to the political pundits at the Washington Post. Accept it--no righteous Obama supporter would deign to associate themselves with this Grateful Dead rabble?

 Aside from the obvious contradiction, that Obama is in fact a fan of the Grateful Dead and pronounced himself a 'd… Read full post »

OWS is over, according to the political pundits at the Washington Post. Accept it--no righteous Obama supporter would deign to associate themselves with this Grateful Dead rabble?

 Aside from the obvious contradiction, that Obama is in fact a fan of the Grateful Dead and pronounced himself a 'd… Read full post »

We of CADAVERISMO declare war on art!

We submit that in the postmodern age art has lost its connection, its link with audience. It has been disrupted from its setting, as Walter Benjamin informs us. Therefore, it has lost its aura, and can only serve as an aesthetic set-dressing for Fascist… Read full post »

The holidays are traditionally a time to reflect on the year past and prepare for the year to come. A time to take stock of where we are, both as individuals and as citizens of the globe.

 It's difficult to think of the Thanksgiving holiday without evoking harrowing images--as detailed, for… Read full post »

My good news and my bad news both tend to flow in waves. A good example of this pattern would be the way I became a college professor at age 40, thus inaugurating the long-delayed first real career of my life, and at the same time embarked on my first commissioned-and-published… Read full post »

Was the pipe smoking itself, or was I smoking the pipe? –Charles Baudelaire, Artificial Paradises

 Walter Benjamin, German-Jewish Cultural Critic (1892-1940)

            In lit-crit circles he is revered for his for… Read full post »

And the people were sore afraid.

And the Shwibly appeared among them once again (although he was tired of being ripped, and of a new one thereof). And he spake, saying "Wherefore art thou afraid?"

And the people did mill, like unto sheep. And there was some bleating… Read full post »

There is nothing that is not Shwibly.

There is no Shwibly.

Follow your own course, weird though it may be.

Learn to laugh at yourself: For that too is Shwibly.

If a Shwibly comes before you with a large pineapple and says, "This is in remembrance… Read full post »

And they came from across the great land and the great divide.

And they were of Bilge and Gulch and Great Wanking. And they were of Bongtoke and Ballyhoo. And they were shredded and ripped and engorged. And they were, many of them, thirsting for a new truth that… Read full post »

And the Shwibly did reassemble.

And he wrote in letters 30 feet high, that said:

"Even if one of you."

And again: "Just imagine yourself."

And again: "The least of you."

And the high priests of the land did congregate and said, "We should rip… Read full post »

And the Shwibly spake. And the multitudes heard it not.

And the Shwibly ascended to the highest peak that was in the land and commandeered a megaphone. And the Shwibly spake. And the multitudes still heard it not.

And the Shwibly sighed, saying to itself, "These are some… Read full post »

(Bauhaus mix) 

The bats have left the belltower

The gravestone rolls away

Revealing--space

The mourners have gathered

The black box yawns

Revealing--sale 50% off on

Chocolate candy and little fluffy chicks

Somewhere

Jesus yawns

Or maybe he's smiling

A big Cheshire grin

Meanwhile

Golgotha… Read full post »

Bottlebrush: a vivid red,

Hummingbird in poised sweep

Aerodynamic

Grace, flow and precision. Over my head

And suddenly, insouscient

Perched in front of me 

And the bees

Swarm the nectar: Oh, it must be sweet.

  Read full post »

It's Easter time again. For Christians, this means a lot of work for and by Jesus--getting him nailed to the cross; scourging him, spitting on him, denying him, selling him out for 30 pieces of silver. For non-Christians, this means a lot of fanciful rabbits and chocolate eggs (?). Which… Read full post »

I am a teacher--that is, until a more appropriate word is found.

The list of things I'm not is significant, so here they are, in no particular order.

I am not a drill instructor. We've all seen those movies. They're bullshit, lies, propaganda for the war machine. Men… Read full post »

My heart is hammering so loud I think I'm going to faint. When she appears I can't find the words.

"This is NOT the time to become tongue-tied," she says. Not with malice. More just stating a fact.

I bring her the poems the way a dog drags… Read full post »

A thumb would smother it

Two inches square at best

A box big as a postage stamp

In which my world rhymes and breathes

I catch myself

Coming and going; along the walls

Twisting like trails of light

I catch myself

Bumping into

Old categories, miseries, loves and hate

Patches of… Read full post »

And the dogs are straining at the leash

Police batons beat a tattoo on your door

Spread 'em high, hands in the air motherfucker

Don't talk back, don't move, don't even think about it

Being while black

Being while brown

Being while SONS OF ANARCHY

Being while SONS OF AZTLAN… Read full post »

(after a conversation with Peter Olson).

They bring us their blood, their hungers, addictions and disease. No Emma Lazarus shit here: I mean literally. They bring us attention and inattention, mind-boggling control problems and genius solutions. If we would only hear. If we would only see.

And yet-… Read full post »

Shipped off to Venus in a death jazz bag

Bones still harmonizing as they pass

Magnetic rings of a million suns

Blues born again as a lit fuse

Jimi you lit us up

One by one exploding the old 

Phrase by phrase unfolding a new

kosmos

Mind radiant… Read full post »

My Muse is hot. She doesn't keep regular hours. She shows up today. I have to deposit my check. I have to get my breakfast bar. She taps her foot. "I've got plenty of customers," she says. 

I ache with desire for her. She's so pretty--not in a superficial way, but… Read full post »