Monday, December 09, 2019

Going Full-Angel

—Anonymous Angels

—Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA

Don’t buy a car for the tires.
Don’t buy a car for the wheels.
Don’t buy a car for how it looks.
Don’t buy for how it feels.

You might buy a car for how it goes
Smoothly down the road,
How it gets you sure
From here to there
Without a worry or care.

This is just some fatherly advice
That I would like to share.

You’re going to have to drive that beast,
To fill her up,
And not the least,
To carry all your loads.
You don’t want those roles


—Joseph Nolan

Eddie had gone full-angel.
He stopped worrying about himself
When he realized how he
Was just a tiny part
Of the crowded
Mayhem on this planet
We call life-as-we-know-it.

What could there possibly be to gain
For himself, since he did not exist?
Not in the way he used to think he did.

Now, he was just a tiny light-blue dot
In an impressionist painting
Of a gentle landscape, fields in France,
Populated by a single, small boy
With a flower in his hand,
Sniffing floral perfume
On a brightly-lit, late-Spring day,
Before supper.

He thought about Mother Theresa,
Of Sainthood, of sleeping
On a rustic cot for a bed
In a barely-furnished, simple, small room
In Calcutta, without air-conditioning,
With the Indian summers reaching 120 degrees,
And humidity at nearly 100 percent.

He thought to himself,
“No sense taking things to extremes!
Some of those saints
Are a lot tougher than angels!
Besides, I like it better here in France.”

—Joseph Nolan

My muse is angry with me
Over a breach of faith.
I abandoned her sack of nails
I used to carry around.

She insists I pick it up again
And drag it from town to town,
But I howl
When the nails dig in-
To my ankles
And into my shins

And I pray to her,
I beg and I plead and I pray,
Why must you be so cruel to me,
To make me bleed this way?


—Joseph Nolan

I think we are running out of time,
Here in the middle of infinity.

How can I tell we’re in the middle,
And not closer
To one end or another of infinity?
By sense of smell, that’s how!
It certainly smells like the middle of infinity.

We had better hurry up.
We are getting close to the end!
If we dawdle, things will go sour
And you won’t like how that smells.

President Trump:
      Please release Chelsea Manning from jail for Christmas
      As you probably know, the prison sentence for the transgender woman was commuted by President Obama—
      because she really did not do any harm to anyone as a soldier who gave “military secrets” to WikiLeaks
      Manning’s act of "espionage” let the world know what America was really doing in Iraq, Guantanamo Bay, and Afghanistan 
      Manning is in jail again, this time for refusing to testify in court against her friend, Julian Assange 
      and Julian Assange is in danger of dying in prison in Britain
      even though he’s only been accused, and not charged with publishing material that “undermines American security”!
      With a strike of your pen, Mr. President, you could return Assange back to his native Sweden—
       It appears now Assange’s home country at least believes in “innocent until proven guilty"
      These two are heroes, not traitors, to the American people who pay taxes to our government to pay for wars
      Again, please, for Christmas, release Chelsea Manning from a Virginia prison
      So she may get a job in her community just like other parolees

—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA

For Christmas, please just give to people you know
      I am so sick of these “charities” where you don’t know where the money goes
      So many of those are headed by CEO's drawing six- and seven-figure salaries
      and the collections therefore don't go to the desperate poor for whom they claim to advocate
      Jesus would be disgusted by those who claim to be Christian, who do just that
      Please practice "love your neighbor”
      and give to a person who you know, even if you don’t earn a tax return for it
—Michelle Kunert                                                                

—Photo by Caschwa, Sacramento, CA


So I’ve got this 1975 Webster’s
dictionary that I paid big bucks for
back in the day

this is the Second Edition, over
2,300 pages long, “based upon
the broad foundation laid down
by Noah Webster, extensively
revised by the publisher’s
editorial staff…”

published in the age when school
systems everywhere were teaching
children that Pluto was the ninth
planet in our solar system

who knows what other of its wide
array of authoritative entries are
now obsolete?

the ragged spine makes this book
look like it was used as a weapon
in a bar brawl, so now it rests on the
bookshelf as stately as a deposed
king, waiting in line to once again be
properly respected



We are but a trail of ants
to the media workers giving
traffic reports, filling our own
antennas with all the statistics
emanating from fatal collisions:

number dead, routes closed,
areas delayed, when the
situation will be back to normal

zero mention of human grief
wives left widowed, kids left
orphaned, parents left childless
it is as if the pitiful survivors have
their orders to just keep going
and shut up about it

remember, you’re an ant, damnit


The Problem:

negative consequences
from criminal acts

The Old Solution:

King Hammurabi’s
18th-Century B.C.
death penalty code

Progress Check:

problem continues
executions don’t deter
enough, prisons full

The New Solution:

we have Corrections
and Rehabilitation
this problem solved. NOT!



· A free market economy encourages risk
· Prohibitive prices stem the ability to overcome risk
· Failure to overcome risk leads to takeovers
· Takeovers morph into dynasties
· Dynasties act to rid themselves of the stigma of free market economy
· We are all minor players in the grand plan of a dynasty wannabe
· Meanwhile key speakers burn jet fuel daily to come tell us we need to switch to greener modes of travel


The bottom fell oot of my boot
which caused the pant cuff of my suit
to engage in a jugular tug-o-war
with the irregular sidewalk

forcing me to sidle-walk ever so crooked
I took it so badly that my tuckus made a
greater ruckus than the Circus Maximus
carnivorous taxi bus parking garage

a barking image of seams ripped apart
sweet dreams that don’t even start with
a birthday push on the tusch, candles
lighted in celebration, a virtual alliteration


Today’s LittleNip:






A big thank-you to our contributors today, helping us start another week with a big bang!

Poetry readings begin tonight in Sacramento at Sac. Poetry Center, featuring Jason Shapiro plus open mic, 7:30pm. On Wednesday, Poetry Off-the-Shelves meets in Placerville at the library on Fair Lane, 5-7pm; then from 7-9pm in Sacramento, An Evening of Poetry w/Spoken Word Artist Buddy Wakefield (plus others) meets at The Sofia, 2700 Capitol Avenue, in a benefit for Creation District.

Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe and Juice Bar meets on Thursday at 8pm, with a book release by Stacy Gee plus lots of open mic, 1414 16th St. in Sacramento, 8pm.

Second Sat. from 2-8:30pm, Sac. Poetry Center features the Women’s Wisdom Art’s new showing, Global Sisterhood, with an art project, reading, and refreshments. And Sunday, 1-3pm, Poetry of the Sierra Foothills features Kristin George Bagdanov, Michael Mlekoday plus open mic at Caffe Santoro on Pleasant Valley Road in Diamond Springs. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

There’s a new reading series in Lodi called Lyrical Lodi, with emphasis on the spoken word. It will meet every first Friday at the Angel Ra Boutique, 10 N. School St., Lodi. Sign-ups start at 7pm; suggested donation $5. Hosted by J-Scribe and the Journeyman.

Interested in workshops? Check the green box at the right for a listing of local ones which will be held this week and/or later. But be aware that many of them will be cancelled during one or more of the holiday weeks coming up in December.

—Medusa, who sent her halo to the thrift store long ago ~

 Don’t forget Form Fiddler’s Friday here in the Kitchen!

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in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.