One week from about this moment I'll be on my way to Nashville to hop the big bird west. Damn if I don't dread the logistics, though I'm looking forward to the visit.
Why in hell can't they speed up technology and come up with the "transporter" similar to Star Trek? Break the molecules down in one location, beam them to another and reassemble them. If we humans survive long enough, that may be possible someday. Doubt we will. Survive, that is.
I've been inflicted with "picture-changeitis" here lately. Latest is the above, a shot from Ray's Place in Kent, Ohio made in July, 2000 during Cheryl Townsend's annual bookstore reading. From left, Haze McElhenny, me, Ron Androla, Mark Hartenbach and Bart Solarczyk. I was Jim Beaming me up, naturally. That was a fun long weekend as I recall and the last time I made it to the Kent reading, which continued a year or two after that.
Nowadays, I have little interest in poetry and less in poetry readings. I used to check scores of zines and poetry forums on a regular basis. I joined several forums at one time, but I no longer play nice with the crowd.
Hell, you can only stand so much "great poem!" "good one!" or "nice" before getting enough of it. And I've been guilty of that myself, I must admit. Poets usually pat backs in hopes that their back will be patted next time they post. Most would vehemently deny that, but it's still a fact. Many claim they "write for themselves" and don't give a fuck what anybody thinks of their poems. If that's true, why bother to post them?
Sure, it's all harmless fun, this blowing smoke up asses. Nobody gets hurt and somebody feels good for a few moments. I'll still comment on a poem myself sometimes -- difference is now, I must really like it if I do, because I'm not expecting anything in return. And some of the better poets (in my opinion, anyway) don't seem to be writing much anymore.
Ah well, what the hell. With all this "hope and change" in progress, I may get fired up and write a new batch of poems. Way things are going now, poems might get you put in prison soon, like Cuba or Iran. Fine to be arty-farty, long as the art follows the party line. Free speech is great long as you mouth what the power brokers want to hear.
It's not likely I'd do that.
Why in hell can't they speed up technology and come up with the "transporter" similar to Star Trek? Break the molecules down in one location, beam them to another and reassemble them. If we humans survive long enough, that may be possible someday. Doubt we will. Survive, that is.
I've been inflicted with "picture-changeitis" here lately. Latest is the above, a shot from Ray's Place in Kent, Ohio made in July, 2000 during Cheryl Townsend's annual bookstore reading. From left, Haze McElhenny, me, Ron Androla, Mark Hartenbach and Bart Solarczyk. I was Jim Beaming me up, naturally. That was a fun long weekend as I recall and the last time I made it to the Kent reading, which continued a year or two after that.
Nowadays, I have little interest in poetry and less in poetry readings. I used to check scores of zines and poetry forums on a regular basis. I joined several forums at one time, but I no longer play nice with the crowd.
Hell, you can only stand so much "great poem!" "good one!" or "nice" before getting enough of it. And I've been guilty of that myself, I must admit. Poets usually pat backs in hopes that their back will be patted next time they post. Most would vehemently deny that, but it's still a fact. Many claim they "write for themselves" and don't give a fuck what anybody thinks of their poems. If that's true, why bother to post them?
Sure, it's all harmless fun, this blowing smoke up asses. Nobody gets hurt and somebody feels good for a few moments. I'll still comment on a poem myself sometimes -- difference is now, I must really like it if I do, because I'm not expecting anything in return. And some of the better poets (in my opinion, anyway) don't seem to be writing much anymore.
Ah well, what the hell. With all this "hope and change" in progress, I may get fired up and write a new batch of poems. Way things are going now, poems might get you put in prison soon, like Cuba or Iran. Fine to be arty-farty, long as the art follows the party line. Free speech is great long as you mouth what the power brokers want to hear.
It's not likely I'd do that.
3 comments:
Great poem!
good stuff!!!
Fine poem.
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