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Monday, March 08, 2010

Late News Poem due to other commitments

Check in again around 6 or 7pm PST. Sorry. Well, more than half of you weren't even here this weekend. Go read the old posts. I'm trying to wrap up the End of Feb edition on top of everything else--can't have me spending less time editing the poems than I spent writing them, now can you? Never mind that; _I_ won't spend less time editing the comps than I spent writing them. They all need something. Even minor changes require major thought and effort. Especially w/ near-finished comps which are the most difficult to edit.

Thanks for your patience re: the matter.

One more thing: welcome to all you new readers. About 1/3 of you are outside the USA, which I find very cool. I'm also appreciative. Thanks.

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Sunday, March 07, 2010

Thanks for reading. You've helped accomplish the first goal of Toylit

Your rate of readership has put Toylit on track for 2k unique reads this quarter. I want core readers to know who else is reading Toylit, because I find the stats pretty cool: Since Feb 25 Toyit has had readers from 102 cities around the world. Joao Pessoa, Hyderabad, Islamabad, Sana (Yemen), Port Louis (Mauritius), London, NYC, LA, SF, Portland, etc. Strangely enough, no Chicago yet. 248 unique readers as of this moment, with what looks to be another 40 newsfeed subscribers.

If you approve of Toylit, please help promote it or feign interest in sponsors' wares. Both will ensure quality reading material for the (m)asses reaches critical mass.

Speaking of which, is there a reason you haven't bought the first edition of Toylit? You know it's going out of print, right? The point is to make it an instant collector's item. Should I hit my 10k readers this year, don't you think owning an out of print book is a good bet as far as a collectible is concerned? I thought so, but of course that assumes you believe in me as much as I do.

In short, thanks for reading. If that's all you want to do, I'm happy w/ that. If you feel some greater connection to Toylit and want to help out, consider one of the above means.

Thanks.

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A One Way Trip on Virgin Galactic [Bonus News Poem, March 7, 2010]

A One Way Trip on Virgin Galactic (or Tricks in Post-Apocalyptic Space) [Bonus News Poem, March 7, 2010]

“Iran's Defense Ministry introduced a new domestically-manufactured cruise missile that will significantly improve the deterrence capabilities of the Iranian military forces, the local satellite Press TV reported on Sunday.”
http://news.xinhuanet.com/english2010/world/2010-03/07/c_13200992.htm

“SpaceShipTwo will be unveiled after darkness has fallen over the Mojave Desert to the sound of a space-themed anthem from Britain’s biggest DJs, Above & Beyond. Fittingly titled “Buzz” the track will sample Buzz Aldrin’s original moon landing dialogue. Following the naming by Governors Richardson and Schwarzenegger, the DJs will also perform an exclusive set at the celebration cocktail party which will follow and feature the first ever IceBar in the desert hosted by Absolut and the world famous Swedish IceHotel. All the guests will be protected from the desert cold by designer space jackets supplied by PUMA. Finally, to close off the celebrations, all the guests will have the opportunity to view the stunning night skies using specialist telescopes supplied by Ron Dantowitz of the Clay Observatory whose unique tracking cameras followed SS1 into space during the epic flights of 2004.”
http://www.zimbio.com/Sir+Richard+Branson/articles/6Oa9PZL7ymz/Virgin+Galactic+SpaceShipTwo+1st+Commercial

“Cyrus is also working on an album of her own, which she said will be out later this summer.”
http://www.mtv.com/movies/news/articles/1633359/story.jhtml

The royalties won't pay for air
Much less a berth, a bite to eat—
I've waited long to touch your hair,
To paint the nails on pretty feet

Since puberty. I've thought of you...
I'm sorry does that make you shy?
I'm lonely. Since the earth's been through,
I've cursed this metal in the sky.

Celebrities like you survived
To love your fans (for price, by bit);
Though true on earth, with wealth you thrived,
In space you live by famous slit.

Your wealth on earth is molten slag
In space, your skills? They have no use.
On earth they might have let you drag
Them down, but here you'd best be loose.

Your refuge is our prison now
And servant's master, switching bows;
Now act as if it's Oscar-night
And come to me for Tantric-rites.

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Want a Bonus Poem?

I'm on for the rest of the day. Throw clicks in the hat and I'll keep crankin' 'em out.

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Fauna2.0 [Today's News Sonnet, March 7, 2010]

Fauna2.0 [Today's News Sonnet, March 7, 2010]

“Could this Chinese Year of the Tiger be the last one with actual tigers still afoot in the world’s wild?”
--Bill Marsh, The New York Times, March 6, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/07/weekinreview/07marsh.html

For every peer we've ever had—we've slain,
Enslaved, diminished—well, we have their plans.
The charismatic megafauna wanes
And yet we've archived what they were. Life's span
Extends quite well: magnetic drives, by code.
In symbol... signs emerge until the two
Are one. Both data, matter: simply modes
Or monads, swimming ignorant in brew,
In petri dishes we've devised to scope
The evidence of God in every cell.
In every scrap of living parts we hope
To find the proof that we are what we tell
Ourselves we seek: that we are what we saw—
The savior human! One of nature's laws.

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Working on Today's News Poem and End of Feb Edition

I will start working on Today's News Poem now and will hopefully finish it before the afternoon's contingencies truncate my work.

The End of Feb Edition is lots of work. It's not going to be filled with 'true' final drafts after all. I think by the end of March however, Jan/Feb's News Poems ought to be edited to their true potential. This means additional verses, new images, elimination of problematic metaphors, better wordplay and so forth.

I'm too immersed in the actual activity to see the News Poem aesthetic mutate very deeply; however, I can see some changes. Before, I think I let the news (mostly) guide my verse. The News Poems were more literal. As of late, I'm getting sick of the repetition of the News (which is why it pissed me off enough to write News Poems in the first place) and have been trying to engage it on my terms. I can't tell how that looks to a reader, but hopefully it's doing what I want it to do.

Pretty much, the bulk of the feedback I get from you, my readers, is in the form of web traffic. But you can be harsher. I can take it. The deleted comments you see are merely spammers... I will not censor your response to Toylit unless you spam without my permission (I don't consider regular posters and readers spammers though, so if you'd like to promote a relevant page of your own, feel free to link it up w/ the appropriate link on Toylit... but make sure you also write. I refuse to let this page turn into a place of mute link-trading). Only a few of you are challenging the poems. Even if you like my verse, don't you think I'd get better, faster if you let me know what did/didn't work for you?

Anyhow, too much yapping, not enough composition.

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Saturday, March 06, 2010

To Make a Global City [Today's News Poem March 6, 2010]

To Make a Global City [Today's News Poem March 6, 2010]

“"If we are to withdraw from unconventional policies and return to conventional economic policies, we need to choose the time very carefully. This includes the exchange rate policy for the renminbi,"”

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703915204575104743815279822.html?mod=WSJ_Markets_LeadStory

“China had allowed its currency to slowly appreciate against the dollar until late 2008, when world economies sagged under the weight of the United States banking and securities collapse. Most economists say the Beijing government acted to maintain the price advantage of Chinese manufactured goods, a linchpin of the Chinese economy, at a time when exports were drying up.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/07/world/asia/07china.html

First, slather all the world with some concrete,
Then etch the human face of our elite;
Then paint the surface red and white and blue.
The bluebloods spill that commie ink—a hue
That contrasts with the white of so-called 'good,'
We crown with lies: enriching thieves and hoods.
This planet called America will own
The sun—such leverage will finance loans

To colonize the nearby space. The stars
Will serve as power-plants to animate
A polis Plato might have loved. The bars?
Are promissory notes and credit rates.

A human being will work as long as he's inspired;
Postpone the joy—most everything that she desired
To gain it back with savings after he's been hired,
Not knowing that before she wins that she'll be fired.

We sell the sale then tell the tale
Of how we won our megatons,
While workers solder, hammer nails:
We've fixed the game and have them spun.

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Friday, March 05, 2010

No Emotion [Today's News Poem, March 5, 2010]

No Emotion [Today's News Poem, March 5, 2010]

““They said he walked up very cool, like there was no distress,” Chief Keevill said Thursday night, quoting the officers. “He had no real emotion in his face.””
--Thom Shanker and Ian Urbina, New York Times, March 5, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/06/us/06gunman.html?hp

“The men showed no emotion in court today as they were convicted of conspiracy to murder and of belonging to a terrorist group.”
--Lauren Frayer, AOL News, March 4, 2010
http://www.aolnews.com/world/article/germany-sentences-4-men-in-al-qaida-linked-plot-against-us-targets/19382760

“John Albert Gardner III stood in court in shackles with his eyes cast downward, showing no emotion, as an attorney waived arraignment and a reading of the complaint and entered pleas of not guilty in the potential death penalty case.”
--Elliot Spagat, The Associated Press, March 3, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5hZxpBuPrX2vIYnBuZtCVLuNvBN6gD9E7FQCG1

Emotion's not a partial state
Of consciousness. Propensity's
Informed by itch. A scratch will sate
One spot, but not immensities

Of rash. Curtailer of most joy,
It smothers other body pleas;
The itch and scrape's another ploy
Of flesh to trick the self to ease.

The rapist's cock will torture him.
A theist's God will whisper 'smite'
Responding to their worship-hymn.
To paranoids, it's ever night;

In every shadow lurks a slight.
They seek to see the darkness right:
To spare their eyes the strain, they light
The world ablaze

And note the comforting of might.
They flee their pain and scorn delight.

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End of Feb Edition ETA and Other Updates

After the workday today, I'll focus entirely on the End of Feb edition of Toylit. I will exterminate those galling punctuation errors and seize upon poetic opportunities I squandered in my haste to compose. Once I've done that, I will pull older editions of Toylit from distribution and publish the End of Feb edition.

Follow Toylit on Twitter. I'm there as 'toylitpaper'. Make sure you look for the gourmet dog: he's our icon of quality and retweet the News Poems you like.

Now to start Today's News Poem.

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Thursday, March 04, 2010

Settling the Healthcare Debate [Bonus, Fuck Around Poem, March 4, 2010]

Settling the Healthcare Debate [Bonus, Fuck Around Poem, March 4, 2010]

“the key divide between Obama and Republicans is philosophical: Democrats generally are confident that an enlarged role for government can help rein in costs, even as it expands healthcare coverage to more Americans. Republicans favor new efforts to harness marketplace forces, while targeting specific programs to reduce the number of uninsured.”
--Mark Trumbull, Christian Science Monitor, March 4, 2010

http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Politics/2010/0304/Will-Obama-s-healthcare-plan-reduce-costs

Light! Behold the crown of horns...
Beastly? Wrong! Our child newborn...
Horrible it's true—and yet
Wonderful. We're fit! I bet
Other mothers never know
Pain like this... at least she grows.
Genes determine fate above
Governments and gods. My love!
Quieter my love. Our bean,
Baby girl; she feeds on spleen
Now, but later she will nest
Deep within my upper chest.

Humankind too long's had faith...
Smoggish men exist like wraiths
Murdering by ounce or mole.
Poison's now the new control
Slaving people's flesh. Diseased?
Certainly. With meds it's eased.
Hospitals collect the debt:
Life for life—I'll sooner die.
Baby girl, end daddy's set.
Eat me. Eat them sweetie pie.

Teach that evolution
Holds healthcare's true solution.

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Okay, it's late as hell. I haven't even started the bonus poem

I plead the fifth.

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You probably want a bonus news poem

Give me a little time. Say, until 6pm PST. I have things to do before I can even start a bonus news poem.

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A Lie is Just an Alternate Epistemology [Today's News Poem, March 4, 2010]

A Lie is Just an Alternate Epistemology [Today's News Poem, March 4, 2010]

“The linkage of evolution and global warming is partly a legal strategy: courts have found that singling out evolution for criticism in public schools is a violation of the separation of church and state. By insisting that global warming also be debated, deniers of evolution can argue that they are simply championing academic freedom in general.”
--Leslie Kaufman, New York Times, March 3, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/04/science/earth/04climate.html?hp

Deception always wins because the truth
Meets the biggest lies at middle ground,
And being truth, it cedes enough terrain.
Method needs Good Faith of trade to sleuth,
Or else the brazen slur their twists to sound
Truthful. Words resemble air for brains—
A poisonous miasma we must breathe:
Venom hides in words deceivers seethe.

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Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Fanfare for the Common Crook, [Both Movements: March 3, 2010]

Fanfare for the Common Crook [Today's News Poem, March 3, 2010]
“Mr. Johnson also attended the World Series game in question and was involved in soliciting the tickets from Yankees officials. The tickets, with a face value of $425 each, were for seats a few rows behind home plate.”
--Nicholas Confessore, and David M. Halbfinger, The New York Times, March 3, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/04/nyregion/04paterson.html?hp

“For the second time in two days, Racine police arrested a shoplifter who went on the attack when confronted by store personnel... Reports said the 23-year-old security guard watched Budner take the $179 coffee maker and then walk past the last point of purchase at JCPenney Tuesday just after 6 p.m. The guard told officers he chased Budner, who fled out the northwest doors of the store, across the parking lot into the Applebee's restaurant parking lot. ”
--MARCI LAEHR TENUTA, The Journal Times, March 3, 2010 12:46 pm
http://www.journaltimes.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/article_5454bf0e-26f5-11df-b45c-001cc4c03286.html

I) A Fine Distinction
Accusing me of being high? I'm low!
And lower all the time. So what? I took
A piece of crap. It wasn't worth much dough.
You treat me like another sort of crook!
Just look at David Paterson. He stole
From New York state enough to burn in hell:
Indulging him because he rode a poll
And throwing desperates like me in cells
Because confusing rules of theft and gift...
I will admit my ignorance of laws.
I might not know the proper ways to sift;
To play the legal code and use its flaws
But isn't there a code all thieves can use?
To see what is legit and what's abuse?

II) Why the River Lethe
A puff of weed destroys the pain
Of traumas pent within the brain.
A snort of coke for richer folk
Will lace a harshness in their jokes.
With both, a drug is just the means
By which they glimpse at better scenes.
We own whatever we obtain.
Since loss is pain, we must sustain
Our gains—though loss is life's great crux,
We stave its rush with lots of bucks.

We yearn and so we die in bits
And bored to death between the scares
We drink whatever gives us fits:
As life denies us, takes our wares

In increments too small to note—
A tiny death by desk: a rote
And wearing task of paper null.
This prison has no outer hull:
Its bars are codicils of ink,
And lawyers form its monied links.
And when another fucker's crashed
And tossed in bins as if he's trashed
He'll seek that perfect cup of joe
He has an image he must show

The world: that he loves only pleasure—
Or fears life's pain: they've equal measure.

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Fanfare for the Common Crook: Part II

Fanfare for the Common Crook: Part II

Read Part I First:
http://toylit.blogspot.com/2010/03/fanfare-for-common-crook-part-one.html

A puff of weed destroys the pain
Of traumas pent within the brain.
A snort of coke for richer folk
Will lace a harshness in their jokes.
With both, a drug is just the means
By which they glimpse at better scenes.
We own whatever we obtain.
Since loss is pain, we must sustain
Our gains—though loss is life's great crux,
We stave its rush with lots of bucks.

We yearn and so we die in bits
And bored to death between the scares
We drink whatever gives us fits:
As life denies us, takes our wares

In increments too small to note—
A tiny death by desk: a rote
And wearing task of paper null.
This prison has no outer hull:
Its bars are codicils of ink,
And lawyers form its monied links.
And when another fucker's crashed
And tossed in bins as if he's trashed
He'll seek that perfect cup of joe
He has an image he must show

The world: that he loves only pleasure—
Or fears life's pain: they've equal measure.

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Fanfare for the Common Crook, Part One [Today's News Poem, March 3, 2010]

Fanfare for the Common Crook, Part One [Today's News Poem, March 3, 2010]

“Mr. Johnson also attended the World Series game in question and was involved in soliciting the tickets from Yankees officials. The tickets, with a face value of $425 each, were for seats a few rows behind home plate.”
--Nicholas Confessore, and David M. Halbfinger, The New York Times, March 3, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/04/nyregion/04paterson.html?hp

“For the second time in two days, Racine police arrested a shoplifter who went on the attack when confronted by store personnel... Reports said the 23-year-old security guard watched Budner take the $179 coffee maker and then walk past the last point of purchase at JCPenney Tuesday just after 6 p.m. The guard told officers he chased Budner, who fled out the northwest doors of the store, across the parking lot into the Applebee's restaurant parking lot. ”
--MARCI LAEHR TENUTA, The Journal Times, March 3, 2010 12:46 pm
http://www.journaltimes.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/article_5454bf0e-26f5-11df-b45c-001cc4c03286.html

Accusing me of being high? I'm low!
And lower all the time. So what? I took
A piece of crap. It wasn't worth much dough.
You treat me like another sort of crook!
Just look at David Paterson. He stole
From New York state enough to burn in hell:
Indulging him because he rode a poll
And throwing desperates like me in cells
Because confusing rules of theft and gift...
I will admit my ignorance of laws.
I might not know the proper ways to sift;
To play the legal code and use its flaws
But isn't there a code all thieves can use?
To see what is legit and what's abuse?

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Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Progress to Stasis: Immortal [Bonus News Poem, March 2, 2010]

Progress to Stasis: Immortal [Bonus News Poem, March 2, 2010]
“To answer Republican criticism of a proposed expansion of Medicaid, the federal-state insurance program for low-income Americans, he said he agreed it would be helpful to increase payment rates to doctors "in a fiscally responsible manner."”
-David M. Herszenhorn and Robert Pear, New York Times, March 2, 2010

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/03/health/policy/03health.html?hp

The legends tell of war—of scholars, emperors,
And murder most especially—of towns of men—
Of cities moving spear and cart. They conquered whores—
Once free, but booty since—their children caged in pens.
An age of war gave way to one of war and trade.
Instead of taking kids by sword and chain, the boat
Became the modern way. An age of bloody raid!
Of riches thralls create on rocky soil like goats.
But every good must end. This wealth, for now, secures
A livelihood for all—but what of venal hopes?
The immortality it's said that cash procures
Can fund an age of medicine with banking tropes.
For banks subsume the score of war: a meritocracy
Where booze and drugs and suit-dressed thugs serve gerontocracy.

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Google Analytics Maintenance eh?

My search avail has failed!
It bailed, I wail. We hailed
It first. It burst our thirst
For electron spies. Fie!
I'll lie around 'till resupply.

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Don't Call it Devolution [Bonus News Poem March 2, 2010]

Don't Call it Devolution [Bonus News Poem March 2, 2010]

“An unusually intense Supreme Court argument Tuesday showed that the justices remain bitterly divided about the meaning and scope of the Second Amendment. And it suggested that the five-justice majority in the 2008 decision that first identified an individual right to keep and bear arms was prepared to take another major step in subjecting gun control laws to constitutional scrutiny.”
--New York Times, Adam Liptak, March 2, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/03/us/03scotus.html

Rebel my friends and bear your arms
And shoot at pipes and power lines.
And loot the food until the farms
Are tapped and overgrown with pines.
The crows enjoy the shallow graves
That overflow and spill their rot
Of plague. No medicines will save
The ones who murdered doctors (shot
With ample ammo) with their guns,
Who used it up and shot what's left.
The madness watched by distant suns
When human life on Earth's bereft
Of self-control, we'll live by rants
And all regress to army ants.

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Sorry for the Sudden Format Shift

I didn't like how the last page loaded and wanted to change things around a bit. Let me know what you think of the new format.

News Poems are below.

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Revenge of the Mud People [Today's News Poem, March 2, 2010]

Revenge of the Mud People [Today's News Poem, March 2, 2010]

“Because of this buffering action, culture was thought to have blunted the rate of human evolution, or even brought it to a halt, in the distant past.”
--Nicholas Wade, March 1, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/02/science/02evo.html?8dpc

Eugenicists have often said
Our species weakens as it's bred
With imbeciles who reproduce
At faster rates; and thus reduce
Intelligence collectively.
At times the masters actively
Conspire to cull a populace.
I say we find the proper place
For every trait—from theft to art.
The brain survives on other parts:
A plague could kill most humankind,
Exterminate our finest minds—
For now, on tech we might depend;
But when it's gone, what's left to fend
For us but selves? Our cells, our genes,
Our friends, our clans—our very means
Of life depends on traits unknown
Since death cares not for what we hone.
And since in death and life the test
Of merit lies—in not who's best,
But rather those who live in peace
And leave behind no single piece
Of who we are, or were, or seek
To be—in those who shelter weak
And gentle beings—in them our blood's
Ennobled: lifted from the mud.

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Okay the Clock is Ticking... I'm Starting the News Poem

I'll start giving you all schedules in the am so you have a better sense of Today's News Poem's ETA.

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Monday, March 01, 2010

Fraternizing With the Help [Today's News Poem, March 1, 2010]

Fraternizing With the Help [Today's News Poem, March 1, 2010]

“One man says that the real crisis is about to begin, with people out of work and hungry.”
http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/americas/Chile-Battles-Lawlessness-Desperation-After-Massive-Earthquake-85842342.html

“It was still unclear how many people died in Dichato, where distraught residents wandered the picturesque tourist town trying to salvage possessions and gazing at their ruined homes in scenes reminiscent of the Asian tsunami in 2004 that smashed into coastlines from Thailand to India.”
--Mario Naranjo, Mon Mar 1, 2010 2:25pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6204CB20100301

“Economists' confidence in Chile's ability to bounce back from the earthquake has been strengthened by the fact its copper mines suffered minimum damage, and soon resumed operations. ”
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8543816.stm

A fool takes torch to that which nature yet abhors.
Why burn or blast a place that wilts by self's accord?
When quakes, tornadoes, floods ensure whatever shore
Or neighborhood the wealthy—who are simply bored—
Desire, they get, then who needs legal theft? The shock
Of quakes can do what we would have to pay, for free.
It's true the poor are drowned again—with ink—but stocks
Appreciate post-bounce. This rising tide—it frees
A market force. Renewed. The people are renewed
With fops who found their homes on graves and rubble-bones.
The highest use for anything is wealth. Denude
The land of serfs with surf, replaced with finer tones
Of speech and class—they've carried me on broken spines
Around the world: a working man will tend not whine.
Now carry me to bed anon—I'm drunk on wine.

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Yeah, I know! The News Poem is late

I'll have it up in a few hours.

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Sunday, February 28, 2010

The Bridge of Babel [Warmup News Poem, Feb 28, 2010]

The Bridge of Babel [Warmup News Poem, Feb 28, 2010]

“"Starbucks is a special target because it's from the hippie West Coast, and a lot of dedicated consumers who pay $4 for coffee have expectations that Starbucks would ban guns. And here they aren't," said John Bruce, a political science professor at the University of Mississippi who is an expert in gun policy.”
– GREG BLUESTEIN, Associated Press Writer, Sunday, February 28, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2010/02/28/state/n105757S94.DTL&tsp=1
In olden times, a staff or spear
Weren't optional. The murder rate?
It topped all other deaths. The fear
Of states of nature—bloody fates—
Inspired the law and other tools
With which to tame our slaughter-ways
Like Bruegel's Babel: built by fools
Who loathed to give abstractions praise
And much preferred to raise themselves
By corridor and minaret
Above the swords. Commanding shelves
And astrolabes they thought made pets
Of stars, they charted course through space.
Departments manage mobs of folk,
Disarmed by this machine of arms,
This tower signaling our cause:
“Defer to experts. Stay on farms.
Disarm yourself. Obey our laws.”
Through habit most still don this yoke,
But others keenly feel its choke
And fight against a false facade.
This normalcy is rather odd.

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