The American Right Strikes Back

I’m always listening to the political stirrings in the USA. Everyone is shouting. Fox news has made smirking something of a ‘company brand’. Arguments are made and won regardless of the truth. The facts be damned. Now the positions are taken regarding the abortion issue. One side calls the other side ‘murderers’. The other side says that its ‘none of your business’.

I have been against abortion for years. I have also been for a woman’s right to make her own decision. Many people share my position.

The American Right Strikes Back


They can be sheared

August 18, 2012

I cannot divulge my sources. (My barber) You know all that hair that you see on barbershop floors and hair salons. The follicles are being used to harvest DNA. The DNA is being used in research. To create a new human species. And this is the most interesting part. Remember when they were cloning sheep. Remember Dolly. Manuel (my barber) tells me that they are trying to put human DNA into sheep. To create a smarter sheep. (What’s the singular for sheep? Sheep sounds wrong.) The thinking is that they will make a more compliant citizenry with the bonus that they can be sheared.

Liberals will love it because sheep can’t hold a gun. The conservatives will love it… well, because they’re used to it.

There is something else

July 26, 2012

There is a long tradition of religious poetry. I like to think that many of the pieces I have written recently are in that mode. Of course they are angry. Anger because my spiritual pursuit has not brought me peace or resolution. I think that all religious poetry starts with honesty. You cannot write it to make yourself or others feel better. If God wanted us to feel better he wouldn’t have placed us in this life. There is something else.


The Final Judgement

There was a cliff. Outside my window. The horizon looked like your face. I wanted to fly. There. Wasn’t any good reason.

John Donne wrote some lines about you. Said you were a credit. To your kind. He was a liar. I think we both know. What are the ties that bind.

Worship. Adore. Blind. Myself in love. But there’s something you can’t dismiss. These were your rules. That you wrote. In our DNA. Don’t poison me with your kiss.

Alone in a room. With my failing eyes. And a table and chair. A blank sheet of paper. I know what you want. Me to sign. Is this your gift in the end. Despair.




panic in an

air raid shelter.

4000 suffocate.

a woman had stopped

to sneeze.










Read the book…. The Black Bird

Canadian Politics

April 6, 2012

This is what its come down to. Every time there is a new party leader in Canada, our Prime Minister assassinates the guy’s character.

Up in the air

February 27, 2012

I’ve been working on a visual project. Its about the invasion of the RijksMuseum in Amsterdam. Not a physical invasion or so it would seem. But a spiritual. Not on the actual paintings but on the whole mentality behind museums. Or mausoleums. Its a visual satire. I’ve done about 20 or so pieces. I intended to do one piece for every letter of the alphabet. Imagining that the perpetrators of a invasion had been caught and tried. And the pieces were evidence. But now, I’m not sure how to present them. As a book in themselves. Or with poems. Or a story line. Well, its all up in the air.


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