Friday, November 20, 2015

A moment of being pulled into the shit

If someone does not like when you call them a bigot online, perhaps they should not be posting things that are racist.

Done now. The bigot used a dictionary definition in his final act.

People are funny, except when they're racist.

Good thing there are some baby camels to calm me down.

Saturday, November 14, 2015

About the reading at Kitamu Cafe

It was a tough night to give a reading after watching the horrors unfold in Paris. A night when about one in fifteen who went to a rock concert will never make it home. We had a show to do, and we did it - as poets do.

Quite the pleasure to share the stage with Nancy Kangas, who is one of my favorite poets. She did a wonderful set (after mine, as I would not dare follow her) that was engaging and totally relatable to my interests. She has a series of poems about parked cars for crying out loud!

I had not read live in over a month and got a bit winded. Think it went well. Did a lot of newer poems that have been swirling in my head or sitting in a computer file, unfinished, for longer than I care to admit. For posterity, here’s the set list.

A bunch of things man makes
Charlie Watts’ wrists
Raising the pitchfork, lighting the torch
How to drink a bad drink
The last barn sign painter - for Harley Warrick
The onramp from I-70 east to 315 north
Dear 2015
Nixon’s lunch
For my Mother on my Son’s birthday
Poughkeepsie service
Dear Pennsylvania

Thanks again to Alexis and Evan for inviting me to do a set at the Second Friday Fete. It’s nice to be asked.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

It's trendy to slag them off now

This song is one of the several that got me through a rough patch in my life nine Novembers ago. This month symbolizes lock down to me. The leaves go, have to be picked up and raked. We're paying someone to do that for us now, which is one major difference from those days when bleak was the norm. The temperature drops then the days get shorter as I go to work in the dark and come home to sunset.

Doesn't help that death came last month and there are now constant reminders of it to our house throughout the holidays now.

So maybe the best thing tonight will be drinking down some Cava and watching the Bills/Jets game from the couch. Even the football is taking up too much time investment these days. I've only so much time, so many hours, left. It's coming to a point where I have to really start thinking hard about time allocation. Or maybe I should just go with what I'm dealt, every day, for whatever is left.

It's hard to remember the fun with all the shouting going on when I look at my screen, which I admit is another part of the problem.

I will be out for a reading tomorrow night, at Kitamu Coffee in Hilliard, featuring with the wonderful Nancy Kangas. Here's the information about it. I will have a lot of new and newer poems about death and travel. Guaranteed to be entertaining and engaging. Plus, free!

Sunday, November 8, 2015

No idea how he knew me

Bruce Springsteen was playing somewhere in Columbus. I did not recognize the venue, but there was a park outside of it where people gathered before the concert. I found my friend Alexis and one other person who I did not recognize and we hung out.

Then a very hairy Springsteen walked by us, carrying an acoustic guitar around his back. He was walking fast, to avoid being stopped and hounded, but he was also very friendly.

"How you doing?" He said to the ladies.

"Hey Ed!" He waved as he kept right on going.

So I got a Boss shoutout.

We then got in line to get in the concert hall and we were packed right in front by the doors, trying not to get crushed, trying not to think about Cincinnati.

No one was hurt, but I woke up before the show.

Sunday, November 1, 2015


Had the pleasure to see The Forbidden Room, the latest by Guy Maddin, at the Wexner Center last night.

Here's the trailer.

This trailer has more going on in two minutes than most 90 minute films. It's the best film about lost films that may or may not have existed than you will ever see. Maddin is on his own beautiful road. If you love silent films, expressionist films, films of the thirties, or Hell, film in general it is a visual and mental treat.