congenial poetry #7

       The incident, an opportunity for poetry, availed itself to me in the aftermath of Howl, the Ginsberg collection of fluid imagery and social commentary on the reaction to having ones toes stepped on . It kind of put me in mind of a running forecast of America, where it's been and where it  will go, insinuating the common notion that its course, generally, is pre-determined. America cycles itself with such subliminal finesse it goes unnoticed and we think change is occurring decade to decade. I was reading a book called The Spitting Image: Myth, Memory, and the Legacy of Vietnam. It suggested that, among many things, the image of the abused, perhaps spat upon, veteran was used by H.W. Bush in the late 80s to get public support for his Gulf War. At least five successive wars were supported by their predecessor. America is amused, and people die over decades to provide that amusement, that sublimated passive-aggressive manipulation. Presidents, congressman heed the call, casting motives for their own agendas:

Amusement

by Michael Amram

Each generation is a symphony

of reasons, its motives to write its mortality

the unique ability to codify its seasons

wading past muck, sucked sound raking war for

opposition it generates, paranoia for seeds of

propaganda it promulgates; the sequestered

cage rattles and rages, it's set out with bleachers

for sons' prodigy, set out to carry their destinies, to wager

on scores like the twenty-first centurions,

paralyzed gladiators with opposable thumbs,

figure-headed charlatans with transparencies;

growing swaths of wind amusing climatology

nursing skeptics, foes of syndicated serenity

copious cataclysmic kleptocratic telepathy to

transfix Atlantic currency, bowing

sycophants to Bolsheviks and dictatorial

Tudor mansion pupae, hatching them,

papier-mâché cocoons wrap in gossamer and feels

of Guccifer butterflys in ointments for democracy,

and generations learn to hear a tympani,

what drives the fife, the drum beaten too long

aisles of dichotomous origin end along the seams

the concerted refuse of ages of betrayal

of the pre-fucked, baked-in-cake portrayals

of discoveries in litigation, dictated stenographic

imaginations and bulbous-balled parasites

feeding upon UN-dead presidents, a massage of toupee

tenderness, spots that can't exist, learn, or expire

alone, can't conspire to obstruct a next generation's

shot at legitimate government or the

chance to get ahead, or just break even like the

angelic types who accept it all, shove words

down God's throat as though it were their own, kneeling

to genuflect toward heaven's stairs, looking toward

Mecca, proctoring prayers, divulging rudimentary Sabbath

brain-pan coterie, simple inseminated scripts

for genial puns of potpourri, leafleted parchments of text

lauding disparate, vociferous candidates

enthused with the scents and drinking in their oils

Each generation's home grown war,

each decade's debate destined to proliferate

each narrative willing to conflate

like individual lessons that conspires, weans

itself free to conjugate conversation

to the future in tense, leaving the past alone

in commiserate soulfully apparitions of

a glass that's empty as halves full with sounds

of WI-fi hash-tag hieroglyphics on cave

walls in the South of France where naked

options fester and pocket protesters

are not obscene to wear, forgot like clickish

sounds of ball-point pens, eliciting traces

of Pavlovian salivants marked for doves standing

with pigeoned toes, the fluid flow best fights

drifts in wind's gusted blows, caught dust of gilded

tribes of civility, a phalanx shielded by the

might in military, their book-ended, all their storied

sounds to worry right, scared to shine

a sliver of light on hypocrisy, hawking

hackneyed words of an ostracized dove

left calling for alternatives to war's ornithology

Each generation gets a prop up

doll, a marionette of its incarnate, martyrs

that wear thin the silk sleeves of

billowing pirate shirts, the mandated

blouses buccaneers past had

commissioned, crows' nest lackeys said

to have spat at legends, antitheses

of myths to fathom, recreating the initial

crimes, abrogation to resurrect

the deadened zombie veterans recanting

their pledge every day, stories war

doesn't hear, its lies to falls in rice dikes and

US jails, its guilt My Son left through

hails to hymns in lieu of Bill, of company

C who lost themselves to leave

M-16 grave markers where all the flowers

went, the missed thatching of huts

where young men raped and burned with

nary a distant repent in their eyes;

Each generation won't see, won't

hear, its enemy, acronyms intentionally

led askew for truths, halves, or

the omniscience construed alternate fact,

the truth's built from scratch, from

tar-paper and mortar shot-gun shacks, a kind

of PTSD that sews the seedlings of belligerence

old sods of foreign wars, of ISIS, KKK, Nazis

all domestic terrorists, and Lee leaves

a cue, and the Confederacy becomes a statue, for

treason of traitors in paralyzed, diseased

family trees, the sons of Civil War, of conscription

and commutation, of the “rich man's war

and poor man's fight,” immortal cliques sound under

whiter sheets that terrorized blacks and white

southern vets who opposed the war, they find

the weak links, the one who won't get

the alternative facts, who thinks outside, hears

without boxed in ears, the vets who

see a world that exudes their peers' dissonance

Each generation must bear a cross

resembling prior crucified fixated fools

for hire, burning crosses so their

flames will rise incrementally higher, so the

smoke dissipates, embers bifurcate

a reciprocal nature of sons in fathers' sire

conflagration's drones, and stealing

books for statues' dates to expire, mediums to

acquire history's exponential limitations,

the right empirical infatuations with alternative

fascist facts, reactionary pacts with Lucifer

a Goebbels faux simile, a knock-off brand of pious

homophobic stoicism called Pence-again,

to know best what God wants, to predict His vigilance

to cut and codify His imminence, the ICEd

trail, the leads to DACA's vast deferential operations,

clandestine ligation and forced fetal deliveries

waggling abortions by AGs who scar interstitial linings

the seminal supplementation's generation, they're

just leaves to shade and prognosticate the symbol's fugue. . .

and it lasts, circles itself viciously, in the end, vicariously

to amuse us to death

Congenial-speak #63

Prioritizing America, life

Something supersedes the wisdom of fools. Something is more heroic and contemptible than the common politician. There's a ruinous path, a cataclysmic crash course, that looms over the two-party system. There's something more in life than TV ratings, than getting rich off not paying contractors, or paying porn stars to keep silent. And, as Damascus suffers, as children wonder why a mile away, life's comparatively insignificant battles flourish.

A blue wave is coming, surfing toward us like Maria. So maybe, sooner or later, after Manifort, Cohen and Van Der Zwaan are in jail, the water will be right. It will be blue enough to impeach and convict Trump. Let's assume it happens, the thinkable (for the last two years) happens. What then? Well, according to the constitution—which hasn't been followed from day one—the vice president is on deck, speaker in the hole. Would Pence be any better? He would bring some experience as a homophobic governor to the table, for its worth. Aside from having a normal adult maturity level, a less inflated ego and being more religious, I would say no—as we know religious does not necessarily mean compassion. (At the RNC Michael Cohen used compassion in a list of contradictory words he said the media should use in describing Trump! No kidding, I saw it on tape).

Defying the odds

As I bet in 2016, when no one, apparently not even the Trump campaign, thought this braggart reality star would win, either way the end would watch a slow meltdown that took the pillars of democracy with it. If he lost—as in the last debate he confirmed—he'd have thrown a tantrum claiming that the race was rigged. I can just imagine how that would have gone. It'd have made Bush/Gore in 2000 look like a high school debate. Now that one of the most dangerous tactical errors in history has been allowed to prosper, to malign every concept America ever fought for, when it is brought down, when Mueller and/or the Southern New York District Court get their collar, all the litigation currently in the news will seem like a slow day.

Why is the decades old nefariousness of the Clinton's even a concern? Neither is in the White House, fighting internally, embarrassing America on the world stage, causing fear and suffering of innocents born here, flouting every tenet of the constitution. The sudden acceptance of allegations of harassment, and self-imposed resignation, of Al Franken I think is evidence that the Democrats don't play favorites. Bill Clinton had an affair with Monica, he was investigated, exposed, and impeached. He did not kick and scream, pay off women not to talk. I think, post Watergate, 2017 was the first time I heard the word witchunt. John Conyers resigned willfully amid allegations of sexual harassment. In my lifetime—post Kennedy—the greatest reluctance to face up to errors in conduct, ethical violations, misappropriations of funds, even sexual abuse, has seemed to come disproportionately from the right. The party that preaches ethics and marital fidelity, honesty and a moral way of living (Roy Moore displayed a monument of the Ten Commandments) often fails to keep any of those ideals. Make no doubt about it, Republicans are the last ones who should be condemning anyone for their breeches of ethics.

Fallen deck hands

Mueller's noose is tightening, his slow tow rope of investigation sweeping across water leaving angry panicked heads bobbing like fallen water skiers. The people who want to disassociate themselves from Trump grow in number by the day. The old can retire to a life of shame, but the younger, like Paul Ryan, have the stink of Trump on them forever. What was it all worth? To reek havoc on America and the world, to irrevocably and negatively alter our global image for at least the foreseeable future (I'm sure after the Third Reich Germany's standing in the world was low). I get it. I understand what the Tea-party was trying to accomplish. I even empathize with them. Their voice were not being heard. Whose is in any tangible sense of the word, in any logistically appreciative manifestation? One should ask, how does a Republican play their cards? How does a party steeped in a fantastical antiquated pride get the government to collectively hear them? For decades Democrats have protested, marched, sat and died-in, they exercised their First Amendment right to assemble, lawfully, unless met with resistance. It seems to me Republicans, the founders of the Tea-party, the forgotten “minority,” were too proud, too cowardly, to follow up any weak protest movement with a constructive, legitimate effort to have their needs addressed by a responsible experienced presidential candidate. Kind of like the Democrats—or a faction of them—had a need in 1968 that was not being heard by Lyndon Johnson and then legitimately campaigned for their hand-picked candidate for their party's nomination—Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy. No, the Republicans, or the Tea-party—I guess maybe, in a bizzaro world, that faction of Democrats—sought to destroy, intentionally, the American political system, hoping that somehow there would be no collateral damage. What is happening every day that Trump is in office? The line is fraying, the toxic spliced rope that holds the bushel of needs and wants, the promises made, none of which have worked out anywhere near the form in which they were originally voiced. He is affecting the morale and strength of the Democrats, brilliantly displaying Nietzsche's maxim “that which does not kill us makes us stronger,” while slowly unraveling the foundation of his chosen party. Except for the die-hard evangelicals, the “Christian” far right echelons that comprise his base, the basic rusted wired GOP has been in lock-down mode for at least the last three months. Who could have seen this coming? This huckster con-man, this man who failed as a spoiled rich-kid-turned-real-estate-mogul. What other angry man in history was a failure at everything he did and decided to take it out on the world? I saw Trump and his scheme to defraud America, enrich himself, and possibly create a tax-free world in which only people whose daddys gave them a million can get ahead. I saw it at the March 2016 primary as he bought his foreign object onto the debate stage, in no jest talking the walk of a professional wrestler. He did not know it was a damn show, staged so he could reduce little Marco to the gutless water boy he has proved himself to be. No one wanted to believe it though. I truly thought a quarter of the country had a lapse of common sense, of naivete, of being bamboozled like those rubes in River City.

When the chips are down

The once proud, if not fashionably hypocritical, the party with integrity now lies in ruins, desperately trying to regroup before a blue wave washes them out in November. Ryan is one of some 27 House Republicans to step down, to retire, “term out,” resign amid scandal or in light of illness. Call it what it is, the fact remains that it is the biggest mass legislative exodus in modern history at a midterm election. I do not think it is a coincidence. The ship has been sinking for the last year and now most of its navigators, its obsequious handlers, are getting off with a shred of dignity.

The Veteran's Myth

Why is Ronnie Jackson even a candidate for VA director? Trump is the personification of a draft dodger, that pejorative word describing the malingering draftee absent of duty. Among a list of draft “dodgers” were Trump, Bill Clinton, Springsteen, Ted Nuget, Rush Limbaugh, and John Wayne. Draft resister is a more PC term, lacking the irresponsibility of dodger. The people of celebrity on this list (Springsteen in '68 was not a celebrity) all did what they had to do, what they could live with, and in America that is their right. Springsteen later spoke out against the war, used his money and talents to help veterans groups. Clinton served in office, as commander in chief. Yes, he sent military to Bosnia, but they were not drafted, and I think that is the operative word when citing a draft dodging president as a hypocrite. Presidents Johnson and Nixon, each having served in WWII, ordered young men to go to war. Trump also did what he had to do to get out of an illegal war, although I highly doubt its politics figured into his dodging. He did not do anything to protest it, to show his resistance, and when he became president he blatantly dishonored veterans, saying John McCain was no hero because he was a POW. The list of infractions against veterans and active military grows. Veterans of any war should have the best, and a navy physician, having zero experience in administration, is not a candidate to run the VA. Even Donald Trump should figure that out. But it is consistent with a pattern of selecting the least qualified individuals to head offices whose poor management can have serious and dire consequences. His simple minded entry-level (barely) choices for specialized offices begin with laughably, painfully watched congressional hearings in which Democrats eviscerate ill-suited nominees. Trump gets some infantile amusement out of humiliating people working for him. (What did people on the apprentice do for him, if to only hear the words, you're fired!)? He knows that the odds are Jackson will fail, ultimately embarrass himself and lose any credibility he now has as a decorated navy physician. To say nothing of Jackson, how will the veterans be treated in Trump's self-serving administrative game? One of the largest integrated health systems will no doubt suffer, taxing an already controversial facility that faces budgetary decreases and a widely unpopular push for privatization. The bottom line is that we have a inexperienced narcissist making the final decision, picking the candidates, not really caring if they succeed or fail, only how the situation affects him. He was never a veteran and will not even dare to imagine what it might be like. Privileged people, those who could have easily gotten a deferment, went to Vietnam. It is not out of the question. President Johnson's son-in-law did tours as a marine (who was used as leverage to keep Humphrey from dissent).

Fear Itself

Why are Republicans afraid of Trump? Isn't there something larger at stake, something that exceeds power, pride and greed. As a by-stander, an American watching the botched amendment to democracy, I can feel the foundation of America rocking. I hear stories of migrant families torn apart, like, yes, slave times. How can anyone be afraid? What is the worst thing to happen in America? Our government is not know to kill people with chemical agents. I can't believe the sycophancy I've seen in the past two years, on both sides, but mainly the Trump Republicans. He will not go gently anywhere, into any night, good or bad. Is the fear born out of the likelihood that, if crossed, Trump would wage lawsuits, famously threaten every government agency with years of costly defaming litigation? So, just what he, during one of the presidential debates, coyly inferred he would do if he lost the election, the difference being a candidate Trump versus a commander in chief. I thought Watergate culminating in U.S. vs Nixon settled that, knock down that high-horse claim for all future commanders in chief. No on is above the law. On the contrary. The president, if anyone, should be held to the letter of the law, laws that conduct the nation, with a supposed judiciousness. And we are back to privileges; getting out of military service, obstructing justice, doing virtually nothing to protect the constitution, and petty things like steeling your medical records from your doctor so the world won't know you grow your hair. I am tired of watching the news, who sued who today, what woman came out of the skeletal closet can a sitting president be indicted. Never in my life have I been turn off, fed up, not inclined to watch the news as it pertains to the president. It is getting to the point of a show in syndication, when I might say “I've seen this one.”