THE END

how do people manage to set aside time
to write consciously and poetically
amidst dishes and daily work duties

dying empire manipulations
relational demands
and driving

plus all the surprises that arise
each day to add to the stress

of taking care of aging bodies
and dwindling bank accounts

of time

____

I would travel
if there was a place
I felt inspired to go

a place free
of bosses and bullies
controlling our lives

the captains and helicopters

but wars on terror
are really no more
than wars of terror

where collateral damage
and civilian casualties

are really
the unjust and vicious end
to hosts of lives
very similar to yours and mine

as a new president
tries to give what's left of the world
to his bosses

the men behind the curtain
of every war and supposed terrorist attack

your unfriendly banking cartel

________________

I can barely find passion enough
to even bother writing anymore

the world demands my emotional capitulation

be nice belong don't rock the boat don't curse don't think too much don't drink too much and above all never get angry

and I go along with the program most of the time
shave off this edge and that

until I wake up so well rounded
directionless and small

I am nothing more than a pingpong ball
in some privileged sadist's hand

waiting to get whacked

_______________

it was pleasant to dream
of winning at the money making game

see how far the dream of a big refrigerator
could go

one with an icemaker in front
and a freezer large enough to outlast armageddon

I've demonstrated my moral ambivalence
the greed to match my sloth
lust and gluttony

and whatever other deadly sin happens along the path

equal opportunity sinner

_________________


there is no winning in this novel
no happy ending

we are cities in destruction
future generations have been mortgaged
and the banks are calling in their loans

in the moment when the serpents claim ultimate victory
pulling all the world into their usurious pit
and we dull witted dinosaurs are removed from our throne

when the tree of life begins to unravel
perhaps an ape survives
maybe just fox and rabbit
or raven and rodent

perhaps just a thick shelled turtle
an old fish and some insects

I will send my consciousness there
hidden in a mushroom spore
reminding them again

to dream

zoo!

ok so i guess there's a mouse or something stuck behind the landlord's fridge upstairs, scratching away at 4 am so loud i think it's next to my head, scratching, scratching, so i peek in their house see there's nothing i can do and try to go back to sleep

i think about moving the mattress back into the back room onto its frame since it might be far enough away from the mouse but then i am in middle of the strong wi-fi signal buzz which the landlord had agreed to turn off at night ut seems to be forgetting, and i don't want to bother him again with it because he's old and seems on the verge of being annoyed with the idea that a renter could actually be sensitive to living in a field of electrical impulses he and most of Albuquerque doesn't notice

but the mouse eventually dies or gets out just in time for the 4:30 am parade of landlord, dogs and meowing cats collectively sounding like elephants on the ceiling, going through their morning rounds of dogbowl filling and coffeemaking, excitement over impending walk, wooden flute playing and such

which gives me time to think about work and all the craziness going on there, my trying to mend fences with folks imagine i may have offended somewhere along the line, being told by one fulltimer in a rambling response that i should more easygoing and say hi to people more and be friendlier and try to hang out with people and care more about the crew, to which i bite my tongue in regards to pointing out i probably do more of all the above than he does, instead trying to listen empathically and hear his own need for greater connection with me

and hearing from a couple others the reassurance that everyone is getting hammered on at work these days, the occasional management attempt at tightening up an operation they know incredibly little about, with me just having the lucky timing of switching shifts, trying to step up, and so being ultra visible in my shortcomings this week

and eventually the morning parade somehow dies down upstairs and at some point i have fallen back asleep, waking too late for my weekly chance to run into the former love and continuing our conversation at winnings cafe, instead having just enough time for this rambling blog and maybe a shower before the hour commute to work, the more editing i attempt the stinkier i am likely to be

moving forward

I feel better today
14 hours of sleep

hanging out with a friend
energy's coming back

I am detaching from the workplace
and enjoying coming back to myself

I 've known the full time position
with its 47-hour weeks
and its shifting schedules
is a lot to ask

I've thought that it could be fun, lucrative
and yes even prestigious enough to compensate
for the diminishment of my personal
and music life

but


the company has asked too much
in ways I may not be fully able to explain

I cannot be someone I am not

I can only stretch myself so far
over the gaps in integrity within any organization

I can only paint myself over so far
as a company man

before I can no longer breathe


hence I will be returning to my steady 35 hour shift
detaching from offering any leadership

collect my semi-yearly raises
remain free to move around the country

slow my work pace down
so that I will no longer take on any stress
thus becoming happier, safer

and less of a bother
to any of the spies reporting on my progress
with my so-called frustration problem

and remain a freer man


the task now is to re-member
other dreams I have

other possible centers
around which to weave a life

a medicine path or spirit way
or simple skill to offer
chef or bike tech

moving forward


and let go of the false promise
of all that is money and ego
at the end of the empire

where war-profiteering banksters
continue to unravel the planet
for pocket change

and there is diminishing security
even in hawking cheap overwrapped low-ball
food to the fawning masses

preamble to the IWW Constitution

The working class and the employing class have nothing in common. There can be no peace so long as hunger and want are found among millions of the working people and the few, who make up the employing class, have all the good things of life.

Between these two classes a struggle must go on until the workers of the world organize as a class, take possession of the means of production, abolish the wage system, and live in harmony with the Earth.

We find that the centering of the management of industries into fewer and fewer hands makes the trade unions unable to cope with the ever growing power of the employing class. The trade unions foster a state of affairs which allows one set of workers to be pitted against another set of workers in the same industry, thereby helping defeat one another in wage wars. Moreover, the trade unions aid the employing class to mislead the workers into the belief that the working class have interests in common with their employers.

These conditions can be changed and the interest of the working class upheld only by an organization formed in such a way that all its members in any one industry, or in all industries if necessary, cease work whenever a strike or lockout is on in any department thereof, thus making an injury to one an injury to all.

Instead of the conservative motto, "A fair day's wage for a fair day's work," we must inscribe on our banner the revolutionary watchword, "Abolition of the wage system."

It is the historic mission of the working class to do away with capitalism. The army of production must be organized, not only for everyday struggle with capitalists, but also to carry on production when capitalism shall have been overthrown. By organizing industrially we are forming the structure of the new society within the shell of the old.