dear willful ignorance,

dear willful ignorance,

arent you dandy.

batty justification,
imaginary preference,
automatic dismissal,
superficial superiority.

my shoes are cleaner than yours.  you are bad.

a string thinner than the slenderest sinew plays a note
that isnt there,
& that must mean something else.

oh, i dont know about that.

what can you learn if you wont think?

i dont want to know every detail of everything.
i want to know what makes things & why.

i miss pop culture.  i dont know the songs on the radio.
i dont have a teevee.  due to obsolescence:  i have an internet.

i wanto know why kids talk that way,
it's honest;
& i wish adults wouldnt talk the way they do,
it's not.

sometimes there's a bum
whose sorrow is too large
too strong for me to bear

& i cant look at them
i cant know evrything
in their eyes. 

it sucks to be too be too broke
to feed the other guy.

next time i can.

in willing discourse,
amerigo

lost

in 'a moveable feast' there's a story wherein ernie's wife is traveling to meet him for a writing retreat.  she dutifully packs up a suitcase with all his writings.  & the copies from the other suitcase. 

a nice heavy suitcase of manuscripts from a hundred years ago.  lovely typewritten pages, carbon copies, notes & folders.

the suitcase lost in transit. 

everything ernie had written to that point.  zoom, kapow, kaputski. 

ernie didnt take it very well.  he said & did a lot of nasty things & whined a bunch. 

sometimes you lose your suitcase. 

a few months ago my hard drive failed.  oh sorrow & woe. 

a couple weeks back, i was in chicago for work & i lost my notebook that had some 10 months of verbiage in it. grrr... i am usually good about not losing notebooks.   people paid shit money to do shit jobs throw things like this away.

it's sad.  but it wont kill nobody.  most important things were copied in some form elsewhere.  & it's a good suggestion for paying attention to what you're doing at any given moment. 

sometimes you lose your suitcase.

it's time to start afresh. 

it's time to remember to keep versions of things in different places.  if that poem is so lovely email it to yourself.  twice.  oooooor, maybe, just maybe, put it on your blog.  yes the long forgot blog you once started. 

i blogged consistently in the days of myspace.  it was pleasant to have a daily impetus to blather nothing or say something slightly more interesting.

thus hath the candle sing'd the moth