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 Aug 2018
zebra
REPUBLICANS
Former South Carolina GOP leader
kills dog to please God
Rob Beschizza

GERMANY
Germany's top domestic spy advised far right xenophobic political party on how to avoid being billed as "extremists"
Cory Doctorow

RUSSIA
Guy who pretends to ****** people for a living named Russian Goodwill ambassador
Seamus Bellamy  

BUSINESS
We're going to be eating bugs really soon now, again
Cory Doctorow


POLICE
Surveillance camera shows off-duty NYPD cop dropping a weapon near man he shot in the face
Rob Beschizza

SCHOLARSHIP
When should the press pay attention to trolls, lies and disinformation?
Cory Doctoro

CORRUPTION
Wells Fargo: we stole houses and we're being investigated for ***** low-income housing credits
Cory Doctorow


LATE STAGE CAPITALISM
How Jpay gouges prisoners' families for "digital postage stamps"
Cory Doctorow

ALEX JONES
Alex Jones is suing the parents of a Sandy Hook victim for $100,000
Gina Loukareas


***
:(
an appropriation
 Aug 2018
Wk kortas
Together we probed mysteries of the dark
Though you said true love was for losers and saps
(Oh God how I loved you, my Joan Jett of Arc.)

You moaned like a ****** those nights in the park
As I tried to snare you with all of love’s traps.
Together we probed mysteries of the dark.

I was a way station, no more than a lark,
Though I searched your eyes for a trace of perhaps.
(Oh God how I loved you, my Joan Jett of Arc.)

I sought to engender romance’s first spark
In the wake of unfettered zippers and snaps.
Together we probed mysteries of the dark

Our orbit of something completed its arc;
I sang Ave Maria, you whistled Taps.
(Oh God how I loved you, my Joan Jett of Arc.)

One morning the truth hit—cold, brutal and stark;
You’d left unannounced, leaving me to collapse.
Together we probed mysteries of the dark
(Oh God how I loved you, my Joan Jett of Arc.)
With apologies to Clem Snide...well, not to mention pretty much everyone else, truth be told.
 Aug 2018
MicMag
Blessed is she who surrenders last coin
Giving from lack rather than plenty

Blessed is he who takes inspiration
Single gift multiplied into many

Blessed are those who pass these along
Money dispersed round the earth

Blessed are those who give correct change
Insist you just pay what it's worth

So now blessed am I as I walk along
Her last coin nestled in hand

And when she looks at me with pleading eyes
I withhold, cause here begging is banned
Poem inspired by:
- the biblical story of the widow's offering (Luke 21)
- seeing a friend's generous spirit
- my cold calloused heart
 Aug 2018
Eric W
Take me into the depths.
Show me the underwater beast,
the Leviathan, the oceanic Medusa,
the wet, slithering, Hydra.
Let me breathe in the sick algae,
and bury my eyes in floating sand.
Fill my lungs with coral and stone,
and grind my feed to stumps
so I never escape.
Bind my hands with a seaweed embrace,
and let me bite the fisherman's hook,
fool such that I am.
Worthless drifting piece of trash
cast into the ocean tides,
starved of affection,
and bitter in the world.
Drag me down into the depths
and leave me there
where I belong.
 Aug 2018
Wk kortas
There is, one supposes, a certain nobility
In simply carrying on with the whole **** thing,
Though that assumes some epiphany,
Some clawing toward grace, or at least common decency.
He had, in some once upon a time,
Cast his lot with a better class of people, so to speak;
It had not ended well, though,
In line with how such things are resolved,
His fall not a spectacular, tempestuous thing,
But a gradual, veiled affair, not a fiery spectacle
With metaphorical medals cut away, epaulets stripped,
But a shaded silence, a shrouded yet palpable shunning.

And so he is here, in this fading little city
Perched forlornly on the banks of a nondescript little river,
Having taken an apartment above a pair of offices
(One occupied by a seemingly ancient and disinterested lawyer,
The other by an ostensible private investigator)
Which is sufficiently large and reasonably warm
Come the seemingly perpetual winter.
He lives, if not in such a manner
As he was once accustomed to, comfortably enough:
He has his practice, and an adjunct position
At the little cow college down the road in Alfred,
And there are the occasional women,
Sad divorcees marooned in this hill country,
Dewy-eyed undergraduates unable to discern
Suit coats that are a bit shabby and somewhat passe
(There is a haberdasher in Buffalo whose garments
Are in the neighborhood of up-to-*****,
And he could certainly manage a trip
Down to New York for better tailoring,
Though he would be traveling in places and circles
Where he is not remembered fondly.)
Stepping outside, he encounter snowflakes,
Light and unprepossessing,
But he studies the sky anxiously, apprehensively
(One learns that he must pay Nature its due fealty in these climes,
And give into the primal, the instinctual)
For he knows what can transpire
When the wind blows off the big lake out west just so,
Turning innocuous flurries into a malevolent blankness,
Making the landscape inscrutable, alien, utterly terrifying.
**** Diver was the male protagonist in Fitzgerald's final completed novel, Tender Is The Night.  Not unlike his progenitor, his landing was not a particularly soft one
 Aug 2018
Walter W Hoelbling
talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans

rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
     in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
     for minorities and women
     treating immigrants like demons

neither fans nor his opponents 
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy

     throw them bones
     fodder for the yellow press

and while  they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
 
money laundering   blatant lies
scolding allies   breaking ties
adoring foes   praising those
     usurpers of democracies
     experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
     undermine  civility  
     with foul language 
fill all courts with servile judges

court the aristocracies 
         of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers

step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades  
      now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again

warning voices call in vain

no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)
(*) This at the moment still is 'fake news' - but I would not be surprised if she did...!
 Aug 2018
L B
I woke suddenly
Felt someone
touch my hand
Brush of sheet in sleep?
Breeze from the fan?

Poetry--
Holes in the night
 Aug 2018
Innocent
your muse
your inspiration, your voice
no longer your choice
left out in the cold
the fidget wasteland of a lonely song
time to let go of the wrong
spread your wings and say so long
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