The Thirds, Engendered [Today's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, March 23, 2012]

The Thirds, Engendered [Today's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, March 23, 2012]

Ghost of my loins, you have fingers that counter-digest me,

Reach through my gullet to pinch-off the brain from my spine,

Sex then unsex me; you hollow my innards—direct me.

Gonads appear in a visage before me—vagina,

Penis, an organ combining the two so the sex

Breaks to an embryo, withers before its arousal.

Ghosts of my loins, the extinction that's coming is calling

Accidents: sperm like a genie from lamp, I'll regret

Life that I never created for fear of creation.

“Mirkarimi pleaded guilty last week to one misdemeanor count of false imprisonment of his wife on New Year's Eve. Prosecutors say he inflicted a bruise on his wife's arm during an argument in front of their 2-year-old son. The guilty plea was part of a plea bargain agreement in which prosecutors agreed to drop three other domestic-violence-related charges.”

—Rachel Gordon, John Wildermuth, San Francisco Chronicle, 03/23/12

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2012/03/23/MNKO1NOUN9.DTL

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ross_Mirkarimi

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/9159992/Zimbabwe-sperm-hunters-picking-up-male-travellers.html

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Reckless Jailbreak [Today's News Poem, December 23, 2010]

Reckless Jailbreak [Today's News Poem, December 23, 2010]

What's innocence, but ignorance? And ignorance?
Excuse, when no excuse will do before the law.
A checklist of vices to speed you to prison:
It looks like your house; but it's smaller, with psychos.
Drink while you're able: go arson, go raping;
Piss on a statue or drive while you're wasted
At night—who needs a reason; fleeing's feeling light
Enough to lose one's head and crack a cap to drink
Away the loss—there's so much loss. The billboard angels laugh,
The ship they painted on your bottle sails, and headlights loom
Ahead but lonely like yourself they seek the outer light
And intersect your path—they surely share your bitterness.

"After two hours of wrenching, tear-filled pleas for both maximum justice and mercy, the man convicted of murder in the drunk-driving crash that killed Angels pitcher Nick Adenhart and two friends was sentenced Wednesday to 51 years to life in prison."
—Mike Anton, Los Angeles Times, December 23, 2010
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-1223-adenhart-sentencing-20101223,0,968080.story

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The Allure of the Mountain [Today's News Poem, November 7, 2010]

The Allure of the Mountain [Today's News Poem, November 7, 2010]

You embrace, so reject what you can.
Default to a mask—for the gas
That swarms the whole world from your ass.

Here is a man who rejected the kitchen
Vegans established, to climb up a mountain.
Starving, awaiting epiphany's pain.

There is the wife he abandoned
Tucking the babes of employers,
While her offspring's with her mother.

And someday the boy will desire
A fantasy—fleeing his home
In search of the face in the mountain:

A skeleton set in position
Observing the sky for a sign.

"Police say protesters have delayed a shipment of nuclear waste to a storage site in northern Germany but that the train is rolling again."
—The Associated Press, Sunday, November 7, 2010; 3:10 AM
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/11/07/AR2010110700766.html

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only if you want [Bonus Poem, September 22, 2010]

only if you want [Bonus Poem, September 22, 2010]

angels cut
off part
of your foot
kiss your cheek and ask
if you still want to
they aren't convinced
god is the boogie woogie
bugle boy of company
b and the angels point
bayonets dance
for their pleasure
if you still want to






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Disposable Notions [Today's News Poem, August 3, 2010]

Disposable Notions [Today's News Poem, August 3, 2010]

Angels dance upon a page,
But never has a human sage
Tamed a flea, nor holy ghost
To dance on pins; despite their boasts.
Better then to needle kids
To dream what grown-ups self-forbid:
Crushing hopes to lubricate
The gears of wealth, with blood from hate.
Someday soon they'll put away
Their Bibles—skin and hair all grey—
Drinking lemonade alone,
Without a thing they need atone.
Smoothing out the Sunday news,
They'll blankly stare, before they snooze.
Waking up at dark, their deck
A pedestal. They'll crane their neck,
Watching stars adrift at night,
And think of all the foolish sights
Never seen, for fear to stray
Beyond the bounds of proper play.
Once they saw the sky as youths
As blank, distracting them from truth;
Now they see it stays the same
And serves as cause, not source of blame.

“On Tuesday morning, Omar Thornton, a driver for Hartford Distributors, went on a shooting rampage during a morning shift change, and then killed himself, police say... Joanne Hannah, a former neighbor of Thornton whose daughter had dated him, also told the Courant that Thornton, who is black, had complained about racial harassment at work and that his superiors had refused to address his complaint.”
– Amanda Paulson, Christian Science Monitor, August 3, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/2010/0803/Report-alleged-Hartford-Distributors-shooter-claimed-racial-harassment


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