Social Media…

Social Media creates voices…it also gives voice to the minorities…listening to a panel talking about the use of Twitter in the Iranian protests back in the spring…

Black, female…

The face of AIDS used to be white gay men…now it’s a leading killer of women in the world, taking place in Africa, Asia and the Carribean…the people who have access to treatment are wealthy…and my cousin just made a bid on a ten million dollar house and she is deemed a success but to me she is just a glorified secetary…we don’t see our politics…we are just given a santized corporate version…I have seen this since the ninth grade, thirty one years ago…

the question is one of political will…the obama administration made a lot of promises but has kept none..he is nothing more than a well marketed brand…welcome to politics in the 21st century…

The big yawn…

Kerouac quoting some hip chinese poet from the fitth century a.d. said there is only a few thousand bohmenians at a giving time…it seems to be as true today as then…the man of ideas is greeted with big yawn…everything else is speed and image, the machine demanding its youthful fix…the rain comes down in the ‘qua…I won’t even get the big yawn…I am under the radar…but still, the words explode real like they always have…there is Folk at the mudbowl down at the field at Bell School…a connection for me as it were…as iwth the others were there alhtough I don’t fit into their personality group we still share the connections with the field, the light, this time of year…

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So it goes..

This point in his life…

Watching the Godfather Part 2…it’s one of the scenes with Hyman Roth…so it goes…soon there will be a parking lot in the above scene…so it goes…magic can’t last forever…

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The words about a photoshoot…

The words they had disappeared….like Baudalliare’s tale of the aging poet my sheen wore off..that will happen when you work sixteen hours down in the Bronx and America had turned its back on any pretense of soul and entered first the dot come boom and then the housing boom..it was about the glitter and the gold and nothing else…they didn’t even care when the bombs returned…my so called scene caved into the fakeness that it was always destined to be..indifference, the lack of desire to leave the comfort zone, apathy, ignorance doomed it from the outset…I was left holding my dick in my hand…but the act of vision is healing…it can sustain you threw the cold winter months when you feel like puking at the preentiious airs you see so called writers putting on the cheap hustles of the petty bankers…so here is a photoshoot of the Greeley woods with the leaves just about gone

Henry Reid on You Tube…

Horse Video with a cool beat…

Horseplay from Kimberly on Vimeo.

Been writing poems…

Been writing poems sort of…little bits of anecdotes that i shared with donny over the past few years…watching john fogerty live by request on pbs wheit’s actually live…I can’t help but think how industry he is…to confirm that thought Keith Urban calls up on the phone…and ten minutes or so the pbs spokesman shill their products and boat how unique they are and I’ve been writing poems and reading Porno by Irvine Welsh and taking pictures out of Rockwood…

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