Dormant Code [Today's News Poem, March 22, 2011]

Dormant Code [Today's News Poem, March 22, 2011]

If blossoms admit it; if jackhammers mutter,
Jackasses sputter it—spring is erection
And promises doused at the summer's discretion.
Spring is the architect, spring is the beauty;
And spring is the whimsy that animates flirting,
Coffee then sex, then placenta in garbage.
The blossoms are falling—they're purple-white falling—
Corpses of salmon are caught in the gravel,
The mushrooms consume what remains of a redwood,
Why won't you bury the afterbirth stillborn
And plant on the grave—if not pear, plant a plum tree?
Look at the city, it's rising; it's falling,
It's built on the efforts of ultimate knowledge.
Calculate will to the decimal spirit,
The programs will find you and activate software
Fucking you, fighting you, flighting and feeding
Your face—you're a robot. My face—I'm a robot.

"The psychologists also measured other factors, including the workers’ general satisfaction with their lives, how energetic they felt, how strongly they endorsed an ethic of hard work. None of these factors was a reliable predictor of their actual performance on the job, as rated by their supervisors. But the higher the workers scored on the scale of belief in free will, the better their ratings on the job."
—JOHN TIERNEY, The New York Times, Published: March 21, 2011
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/22/science/22tier.html



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Good For One Catered Wedding Party [Today's News Poem, August 7, 2010]

Good For One Catered Wedding Party [Today's News Poem, August 7, 2010]

The pastels are stunning and if you are careful
You'll see that the paint and the tinsel are scuffing.
So worship the notion; the mothers of someone
Who died are on knees and accept the conditions
Of grace in this chapel. The balcony's shoddy;
And leaning will kill you. The bolts are uncertain;
But faith in the polish should keep you from falling.
The Monarch is deejay and pumps-up the music;
Then seizures on floor as The Pagan, in rapture.
He rises in minutes, as Holiest Faggot;
With scepter and crown. His erection is covered
By shroud; and his leer, with a mustache from heaven.
The pervert is ruler of all that's eternal—
From clubs in the penthouse of clouds, to the churches
Of faithful who worship polemics that promise
That everything's fine if you keep from observing
The details and hope that the coupons one's given
Redeem what's been lost as you offer your wedding
To statues of plaster; to candles and Bishops.

“Two years and $265 million later, Santa Monica Place reopened Friday with thousands of shoppers pouring in to get a first look at the newly remodeled shopping center... By the time Walters arrived at 8 a.m., two hours before the mall opened, hordes of shoppers were already lined up in a scene reminiscent of Black Friday crowds on the day after Thanksgiving... All 500 mall gift cards that had been allotted for the opening, valued from $10 to $500, had been given out to early birds, many of whom had camped out overnight. A DJ spun a mix of classic rock, hip-hop and country tunes while an emcee encouraged people to "shop to your hearts' content." ”
– Andrea Chang, Los Angeles Times, August 7, 2010
http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-santa-monica-place-20100805,0,4134563.story?track=rss

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