Tag Archives: antifascism

Read my poem, We Do Not Fear History, in the latest edition of Suburban Witchcraft Magazine

I’m pleased to announce I have another poem published in Suburban Witchcraft Magazine. It’s called, We Do Not Fear History, and it’s one you can expect to hear me performing with my drumming/creative partner D. Berger (whose latest album release can be heard here in its entirety for free, fyi) sometime soon, as we areContinue reading “Read my poem, We Do Not Fear History, in the latest edition of Suburban Witchcraft Magazine”

History is Very Hard to Dance to

History is very hard to dance toOne cannot rely upon rhythmic feelOne must countOne must find patterns, constellations by which to guidewhen the beat fallsbelow a threshold of about thirty-three beats per minute,the beat becomesintermittent, separate events,becomes history–a string of memories of the firsthand pastrather than a beat one can dance to,rather than verses toContinue reading “History is Very Hard to Dance to”

A Secret Is A Fist

A secret is a fist,a clenched hand until opened and gone;and a secretlasts as longLasts as long,feels strong as a hand when closedA secret can strike,though a secretcan’t holdA fist held tight–knuckles wrong, knuckles rightIf in search of a fight,take secretsHands open widebeckon a spell; to give,or a telldepends so well on the deep blueContinue reading “A Secret Is A Fist”

Big Yellow Chickens– Florida is Where Woke Goes to Die, ch 6

Because Florida just can’t stop. You know the tune, sing along, make up your own words. (Apologies to Joanie Mitchell.) Despite Webster Barnaby’s wonderful name, and despite his ability to voice that he is confused and doesn’t understand a vulnerable population in America, he doesn’t take the next step that a decent person takes, especiallyContinue reading “Big Yellow Chickens– Florida is Where Woke Goes to Die, ch 6”

Julia’s Squeezy TV Remote

I was fortunate to have known all four of my grandparents as a child. The last to survive, my maternal grandfather, Clark, recently passed at a month shy of ninety-nine. He was a machinist, a veteran (though he never talked about that), and tinkerer. He had a motorcycle, the first one I ever rode on.Continue reading “Julia’s Squeezy TV Remote”

The Murdoch Ballad to Tucker Carlson’s Face

Tucker, Tucker get your face screwed on there’s a sucker, sucker just about to be born We paved the lane to your door, hung the shingle outside, all you got to do is sell them something they’ll buy While you’re at it, we got a little potion they might try It’ll make ‘em believe theyContinue reading “The Murdoch Ballad to Tucker Carlson’s Face”

Come On In, the Sand’s Fine!

Florida is Where Woke Goes to Die, chapter 4: Come On In, the Sand’s Fine! Thus concludes this four-chapter protest of the Sunshine State and its quick embrace of fascism. Remember, you can’t shoot your fear, you can only learn. Thank you for following along! Keep your heads out of the sand!