Never Trump.

 

New Unlikely Book: Cantos Poesia by David E. Matthews!

We laugh and we laugh and we laugh. It’s the only way we can breathe anymore.

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A country where citizens gun each other down in the street, in libraries and concerts and theaters – that’s anarchy. Children are slaughtered? Anarchy. It happens and laws don’t change, minds don’t change, nothing changes? Anarchy.

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and you can believe in god or
you can not believe
and in the end you die

and do you want an apology?

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When his perceived enemies were the targets of mail bombs this fall, he never once reached out to the many high profile targets, but instead decided to whine about how the news coverage affected “republican momentum” before the midterms.

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And so we burn, we drown,
we wave goodbye, eyes fixed
on stars and alligators,
on the last page of Hemingway,
​on a swamp that teems

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I look out the window at an old Victorian
hands trembling on the wheel
my daughter places her hand over mine
"You can tell me anything"

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The poet here is playing with the impression of snow, bringing us back to our senses, the cold felt through an open palm. The image works all for the better that it is unlikely.

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Wisdom presumably learned
from the stabbing death
of Kitty Genovese in 1964
and the neighbors who watched,
​each waiting for the other to act.

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When he's fed up with being invisible
​and doesn’t want to be a vintage pic
he walks to the beach, plants feet in the sand
next to a tropical grape tree and waits.

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is what I meant when I said that sometimes
no matter where you are or who you are
with it seems you would be perfectly happy
on a world with one island surrounded by a big
purple ocean filled with really nice apartments.

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“that george bush looks the same now don’t he?”
“same as he did when he was a kid. you know it’s him.”
“he’s a good old boy ain’t he?”
“better than the muslim we got now.”

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I pondered this while simultaneously realizing the drunken hollering was getting out of hand with the ratio of males to females about three to one. What was I doing? The last thing I wanted was to spend all night avoiding guys who expected you to perform fellatio on them just because they had been nice enough to give you liquor.

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