21 Aug



… kinda strange the sun being eaten up by the shadow of the moon for a bit  … & everyone in real life talking about it …  since my ever-lonely inner monologue has been dedicated to the writing of a story called notes from the plastic island, about an island made of plastic where there is no sun … only the Cathedral of Sun … sensual fantasies of the memory of sun …  a virtual reality theater …  where islanders flock to watch sun-rises&sets on large surround screens  … & experience intercourse with the sun … a sun last seen in childhood …  now blocked out by the body of a dictator … a giant dressed in an imported business suit … & forever confusing the roosters …


… the best eclipse movie I know about is called Judy Berlin, starring a young and brilliant Edie Falco, as well as Madeline Kahn.

… directed by Eric Mendelsohn … where are you now? this is such good filmmaking!




“…. the blue sun had almost completely disappeared beyond the horizon, the crimson tinge of the clouds in the opposite direction heralded the rising of the red sun. The vast blackness of the ocean and the empty sky above it were then filled with a blindingly fierce clash between hard colors aglow like metal, glistening with poisonous green and subdued hollow flames of crimson, while the ocean itself was rent with the glare of two counterposed disks, two furious fires, one mercuric and one scarlet …”


“The red dawn was blazing in the window panes and dividing the room in two. We were in the pale blue shadow. Beyond its border everything looked like it was made of copper; you might have thought each book would clang if it fell from the shelf.”

 – from Stanislaw Lem’s Solaris, re: Solaris’s 2 suns





… my favorite comet movie … Night of the Comet …

… a comet passes through vanishing most of 1980’s America … & two badass chicks are among the survivors … they find shelter in a department store …

… one of the girls who survives the comet is saved by a night of passion with her film projector boyfriend in a steel-walled projection room … forever cementing the cinema paradiso symbolism of the movie theater, in my mind … the sacredness of its cathedral  …



16 Aug


“White Power!” the Nazi’s shouted, “White Flour?” the clowns yelled back running in circles throwing flour in the air and raising separate letters which spelt “White Flour”.

“White Power!” the Nazi’s angrily shouted once more, “White flowers?” the clowns cheers and threw white flowers in the air and danced about merrily.

“White Power!” the Nazi’s tried once again in a doomed and somewhat funny attempt to clarify their message, “ohhhhhh!” the clowns yelled “Tight Shower!” and held a solar shower in the air and all tried to crowd under to get clean as per the Klan’s directions.

One last time they screamed “White Power!”

The clown women thought they finally understood what the Klan was trying to say. “Ohhhhh…” the women clowns said. “Now we understand…”, “WIFE POWER!” they lifted the letters up in the air, grabbed the nearest male clowns and lifted them in their arms and ran about merrily chanting “WIFE POWER! WIFE POWER! WIFE POWER!”

from a 2007 counter-protest in Knoxville, Tennessee


Similar clowns in Charlotte, NC in 2012: anti-racists wearing clown noses and carrying squeaky toys, whistles, noisemakers and bags of flour.

Ben Marcus

21 Jun


MOTHER, THE    The softest location in the house. It smells of foods that are fine and sweet. Often it moves through rooms on its own, cooing the name of the person. When it is tired, it sits, and members vie for position in its arms.

(The Age of Wire and String)

Poetry Crush: Everyday is Valentine’s (Vol.I)

2 Feb

poetry crush


Scene from Picnic at Hanging Rock:  “To Saint Valentine!”
An honor to valentine with first-rate hearts-of-cake:  Shane McCrae, Hannah Gamble, Paige Taggart, Amy Lawless, Todd Colby, Joanna Penn Cooper, Douglas Piccinnini, Jared White, Melissa Broder, Rauan Klassnik, Rena Mosteirin, Lee Ann Roripaugh & J. Hope Stein (me, duh).

Most often neighbor as you       most if neighbor means you only

Most often you most often spring pink      suns the trees the cherry now

Most often neighbor to the blue immediate blue sky

And none of the rain in the sky although rain

strips the pink light from the branches

As neighbors do although rain claims the branches into blossom

As neighbors do as you

have claimed me into life most often neighbor // The pink trees neighbor

to the blue sky not for      being pink / For being

from red…

View original post 1,759 more words

<3 Cast of Hamilton <3

19 Nov


” We sir, we are the diverse America who are alarmed and anxious that your new administration will not protect us …

Orwell and an apology

15 Nov

I want to apologize for my part in the results of the election:

I’ve been watching Trump very closely since the Primary. I knew in my heart he was going to win. I tried to vocalize it to people in my life at times but gave into the idea that I was being too negative. I knew he was backed by Breitbart in finance, audience and strategy. I knew Bannon would end up in a Trump White House. I thought everyone was aware of this, but now I’m not so sure. I knew the power of his disinformation campaign … I’ve been reading nothing but Orwell for 2 years. I knew the power and size of his online mob of followers and the way they viscously attacked threatened and tried to silence anyone who disagreed with him. I knew the way Trump was intimidating comedians and media who talked out against him through lawsuits and activation of his mob and that it was working.  I knew historically, when the lives of white people don’t turn out the way they expect/had been promised/felt entitled to, it leads to scapegoating and the rest of the country will be made to suffer and I have friends who have already been attacked.

“The nationalist not only does not disapprove of atrocities committed by his own side, but he has a remarkable capacity for not even hearing about them.” – Orwell

Before this election I called myself a writer, a poet sometimes. But no, it doesn’t feel as though I have the right. I was working on a not- so-great piece privately about a dictator that I never shared with anyone, hoping the reality of Trump’s election was only inside my sometimes unruly imagination.  When I did try to speak up, language failed me. I failed it. As though all the language had already been used up and all the words had been said so many times in so many instances that the words didn’t mean anything. When I tried to open my mouth it was as if someone was deleting my words as I tried to say them or write them.  or as Orwell describes it:  “like a cuttlefish squirting out ink.”

“Don’t you see the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought? In the end we shall make thought-crime literally impossible because there will be no words in which to express it. Every concept that can ever be needed will expressed by exactly one word, with its meaning forgotten.” Orwell, 1984

I apologize for not being more vocal. I wasn’t loud on facebook. because i’m not loud and I didn’t think anyone would listen. I didn’t know how to speak to or write to my 3rd party and non-voting friends (let alone someone who would vote for Trump)  in a way that is measured and convincing. I wanted to respect people’s rights to experience the vote in their own way, but I think that’s wrong now.


Sigur Ros

30 Sep


i had my earphones on when the baby was born … this is what I was listening to … pure poetry ….


untitled 1

You xylo fi
You so lo
You so
You xylo fi
You so lo
You so

You xy fi no
You so lo
You so
You so lo
You so
(You so)

You xylo fi
You so lo
You so
You xylo fi
You so lo
You so

You xy fi no
You so lo
You so
You xylo
You so

(You so)