Lucky Dube

I picked up the current car CD at the right from the library. I soon discovered that Lucky had been killed by carjackers in Johannesburg this last October. Africa's biggest reggae singer by far I think he could have been even more of a global phenomenon if not struck down in his prime.

There is a new Kerouac documentary about his novel Big Sur entitled One Fast Move or I'm Gone. I could not find a clip of the trailer that that was You Tubular but there is one of the website for the film.

Wilco will be in Des Moines on March 9th but before that NPR will be streaming a live show in Feb. 27th. Information here.

Poem of Disconnected Parts


At Robben Island the political prisoners studied.
They coined the motto Each one Teach one.

In Argentina the torturers demanded the prisoners
Address them always as “Profesor.”

Many of my friends are moved by guilt, but I
Am a creature of shame, I am ashamed to say.

Culture the lock, culture the key. Imagination
That calls boiled sheep heads “Smileys.”

The first year at Guantánamo, Abdul Rahim Dost
Incised his Pashto poems into styrofoam cups.

“The Sangomo says in our Zulu culture we do not
Worship our ancestors: we consult them.”

Becky is abandoned in 1902 and Rose dies giving
Birth in 1924 and Sylvia falls in 1951.

Still falling still dying still abandoned in 2005
Still nothing finished among the descendants.

I support the War, says the comic, it’s just the Troops
I’m against: can’t stand those Young People.

Proud of the fallen, proud of her son the bomber.
Ashamed of the government. Skeptical.

After the Klansman was found Not Guilty one juror
Said she just couldn’t vote to convict a pastor.

Who do you write for? I write for dead people:
For Emily Dickinson, for my grandfather.

“The Ancestors say the problem with your Knees
Began in your Feet. It could move up your Back.”

But later the Americans gave Dost not only paper
And pen but books. Hemingway, Dickens.

Old Aegyptius said Whoever has called this Assembly,
For whatever reason—it is a good in itself.

O thirsty shades who regard the offering, O stained earth.
There are many fake Sangomos. This one is real.

Coloured prisoners got different meals and could wear
Long pants and underwear, Blacks got only shorts.

No he says he cannot regret the three years in prison:
Otherwise he would not have written those poems.

I have a small-town mind. Like the Greeks and Trojans.
Shame. Pride. Importance of looking bad or good.

Did he see anything like the prisoner on a leash? Yes,
In Afghanistan. In Guantánamo he was isolated.

Our enemies “disassemble” says the President.
Not that anyone at all couldn’t mis-speak.

The profesores created nicknames for torture devices:
The Airplane. The Frog. Burping the Baby.

Not that those who behead the helpless in the name
Of God or tradition don’t also write poetry.

Guilts, metaphors, traditions. Hunger strikes.
Culture the penalty. Culture the escape.

What could your children boast about you? What
Will your father say, down among the shades?

The Sangomo told Marvin, “You are crushed by some
Weight. Only your own Ancestors can help you.”

Robert Pinsky


I managed to suvive my birthday celebration last Friday. It was made easier as we simply went home after a pleasant dinner with friends (friends were pleasant the wait staff not really) instead of attempting to close down The Dublin with the inevitable parade of shots.

Yesterday I started two mysteries by Ross Macdonald only to realize that I had already read them both. It took me about 40 pages into each of them before I remembered the plot and who done it. This was just after I had finished an unsatisying novel about Rome from a writer I generally admire. So I ended up reading a John D. MacDonald Travis McGee story in which I did not recall who killed whom and enjoyed it thoroughly

I am on quest for something good to read. I found the Pinksy on the new book shelf at library and thought it would be good to break things up before attempting another novel. The next one on the pile looks good and is about Tesla (the man not the band) so I have high hopes.

I meant to post this last Friday

Poem for My Twentieth Birthday

Passing the American graveyard, for my birthday
the crosses stuttering, white on tropical green,
the years’ quick focus of faces I do not remember . . .

The palm trees stalking like deliberate giants
for my birthday, and all the hot adolescent memories
seen through a screen of water . . .

For my birthday thrust into the adult and actual:
expected to perform the action, not to ponder
the reality beyond the fact,
the man standing upright in the dream.


Kenneth Koch, “Poem for My Twentieth Birthday” from Poetry 67 (November 1945)





I celebrated my 20th birthday in San Francisco. It was a good place to be in 1987. Clean and well lighted....not really. I was about nine months into my stay at the Defense Language Institute. We were one of the senior classes at this time. They started about ten classes a year. We were the seventh Korean class of 1986 hence our moniker : KP0786. I dont actually recall what I did that night. Probably spent it a homey little place that served us, The Black Fox on Geary St near 17th. Somewhere in between The Nag's Head and The 7/11. Much of our time was spent in that bar.

My 21st birthday I celebrated on a very cold hill in the northern part of South Korea. My team leader sent me down to a store at the bottom of the hill to buy some soju and Pepsi. It was a good birthday. I find it hard to believe twenty years have passed since then.

Happy St. Valentine's Day

The Kimono

When I returned from lovers' lane
My hair was white as snow.
Joy, incomprehension, pain
I'd seen like seasons come and go.
How I got home again
Frozen half dead, perhaps you know.

You hide a smile and quote a text:
Desires ungratified
Persist from one life to the next.
Hearths we strip ourselves beside
Long, long ago were x'd
On blueprints of "consuming pride."

Times out of mind, the bubble-gleam
To our charred level drew
April back. A sudden beam . . .
--Keep talking while I change into
The pattern of a stream
Bordered with rushes white on blue.

James Merrill

The photo and info below all are from Wilco winter update email. Win a weekeing in Chicago with the band and the Blackhawks... Deadline is today as winner will be notified tomorrow. Short notice but it would be a killer trip. There are still tickets available for their March 9th show in Des Moines. See you there.

Details below. Enter here.

Two winners will receive the following cool stuff:
2 tickets to see Wilco at the Riviera Theater on Saturday, February 16
2 tickets to see the Chicago Blackhawks vs. the Colorado Avalanche on Sunday afternoon, February 17
2 nights at the Hard Rock Hotel Chicago (Feb 16 & 17)
1 package of Blackhawks and Wilco merchandise

"Brighten the Corners"

A couple things to lighten the season after dumptruck loads of snow piled up all around town. The first is a photo of a bouqet before the cats started to eat them. The second is a concert of Bob Mould that was on NPR here. His new album "District Line" is out now and he will be tour with a full band. Bring earplugs. Don't say I did not warn you. This morning I woke up and started watching the documentary "American Hardcore". (Not to be confused with the George C. Scott film, "Hardcore"). Anyway, it's a good way to start your day. Now if I can just find my Bad Brains cassettes...

"Love Will Tear Us Apart"

This is to continue my streak of YouTube postings. I think the documentary of Joy Division will be released in May in the UK. (Scruffy is right, I did seem to post most more when I was at work.)

"It's that song from that commercial."

Not sure what happened when I first posted this but it all disappeared. This is supposed to be the You Tube clip for Israeli singer Yael Naim's "New Soul". It is currently stuck in my head from the Macbook Air commercial. This place has been neglected of late but I will attempt to keep it going. My main reading obsession at the moment is Michael Chabon. More to follow if this actually works this time.

Lazy posting. This was passed on to me by friend down in Tucson. I am probably the last one to see it but here it is anyway. Working on a post about recent stack of books from library.

Here is a belated shot from my caucus station at Hoover Elementary. It was quite the clusterf*ck. Still I am glad I went. Below is a poem soon to be retired from the Poetry Daily archives. There is also another Marvin Bell poem from Ted Kooser's most recent ALP column here.

Five to Seven


It's a dog straining at its leash
that sets the day
against the dawn, the new sun spotting
the sidewalk, and a slow ratcheting up
of machinery and a beehive of voices
picking up the pace of gossip, a humming of
harmonies, a layered chorus of order
and disorder, a knife blade shining briefly
in an alley, a car tire over the curb,
the siren, the clanging, the electric buzz,
now crisscrossing Times Square,
and the Staten Island Ferry spewing commuters
shaven or lipsticked from the bathrooms,
the mirror coated with steamy grimaces,
the workday rush to reach the rainbow
of a pension and a porch. Add in a bagel
with a schmear, some joe, a donut for ten,
and you've got America without a pennant,
a horde of faces without a flag,
up from the hole of night talk and beer,
ready to rumble in the subway, earplugs,
headphones, whatever it takes
to get back with a full shopping bag
emptied on the kitchen counter
while trying to cook and listen
to one person at a time.



Marvin Bell


The Georgia Review
Fall/Winter 2006

"The people who cast the votes don't decide an election, the people who count the votes do.” - Joseph Stalin

Found this site over at CNN that wants locals to submit photos and such from their caucusing. I will bring my camera to the my caucus station tonight and see if I can get any interesting pictures. Perhaps some Obama supporters slugging it out with some shrill Clintonites. I think I will be sitting in the Edwards camp at least initially to see how things play out. Do they still close the bars on voting day?

Redemption Song

Just started reading the Joe Strummer biography by Chris Salewicz that I found in tatters on the discard shelf of the local public library. Not really in shreds but the binding had been broken and the book is now in several sections and a smattering of loose pages. Somehow this seems apropos for a story about Joe Strummer. Not sure when or if the film will be available around here likely it will be out on DVD or it may show up at the university theatre here in town. Not to end the year on a bummer but its not a bad time to pop in some Clash records or a Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros cd to ring in the new year. In a lovely piece of foreshadowing I found a decent copy of their Global a Go-Go cd a few weeks back for a buck. Happy New Year to all. Peace.

Happy Boxing Day!

Woodpecker forgoes the treated lumber for suet.

I have been well away from computers this past week so a belated Merry Christmas to all. I am hopeful that all is well with my small devoted readership.

This weekend we visited over at S's sister's house. I finally got my chance to butcher a song on Guitar Hero III. I mangled Social Distortion's "Story of My Life" or at least that's what I think it was supposed to be. Much fun.

The Coldest Winter

I had a laptop accident. This sounds completely made up but one of the cats knocked the laptop off of the coffee table and it landed squarely on the wireless network card. So until I get my new card to work (Windows 98 challenges etc.) I am back to using the library or catch as catch can. Anyhow, I found the video clip over at Powell's Books. I ganked this holiday song from the I Am Fuel music blog which was in turn ganked from Coldplay website. Seems like if they made a video for this version of the Pretenders song it would have to include Zach Braff.

"2000 Miles" - Coldplay

Wilco Residency Tour Announced

I would love to be able to see (read afford) all of these shows. I still may try and catch the first night as it is on my birthday. Tickets go on sale this Friday morning for these and for a show in Iowa. They will be playing Val Air Ballroom in Des Moines on March 9th. I am adding a bonus Jeff Tweedy song from a show at The Vic in Chicago from March 2005 plus a Christmas song that was highlighted over at Chromwaves.

Remember the Mountain Bed- Jeff Tweedy (Woody Guthrie)

A Christmas Dirge- Nellie McKay

The Ice Storm

I think most of our neighborhood was without power for at least a few hours yesterday. It was a perfect opportunity for an afternoon nap followed by some delivery pizza. I found this song in my email from some time last year.

Mrs. Claus' Kimono- Drive By Truckers

NY Times Books of the Year

The Sunday NY Times choose their books of the year for 2007. I have only skimmed one of them but in the spirit of Pierre Bayard, whose book I have also so far just flipped through, I can recommend The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño. This book required more attention than I could give it at the time and had to return it to the library. It is worth the effort.

Former Iowa Writer's Workshop author Denis Johnson made the list in addition to winning a National Book Award for his tale of Vietnam Tree of Smoke. There is one notable exception to heaps of praise this book has received. A different take from B.R. Meyers in Atlantic monthly was republished here at Powell's Books website. Is this a hatchet job or is the emperor naked? I am suspicious of some of Meyers' claims but I still need to read the book. Or at least skim it.

How about a Christmas song? Here is one from the compilation Stockings by the Fire (Its in a Windows media format as I having some mp3 conversion issues. Thanks to a friend I am now the proud owner of a ten year old Gateway laptop Pentium III running Windows 98 so I have some compatibility issues but I am grateful for the computer as my former desktop is dead.) Anyway let me know if there are any issues. I will try and put up some more holiday songs.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer- Jack Johnson

Good game yesterday but I do feel that we will see Pittsburgh again in January and it will be a tougher game as Pittsburgh's offense was impressive and the Steelers first string safeties will be back. I think 16-0 would be great but I want the Pats to win the Super Bowl first and foremost. This season is uncannily similar to the year Payton Manning blew up the record book but then ended up watching the Pats win the Super Bowl from his couch. Speaking of big games and guaranties; Anthony Smith meet Freddie Mitchell, Freddie Mitchell meet Anthony Smith.

Christmas Shopping

Recommended for the reader on your shopping list. I have championed him before (incessantly some would say). This just came out in time for this holidays. Check out an excerpt here.