Friday, December 10, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
As the Prime Minister of Canada I would like to apologize to Michael Ignatieff for portraying him as a Yankee when it has been our Conservative policies that mimic those of Republican America. In addition to this self serving behavior I admit we have been soft-soaping taxpayer money for partisan purposes and I apologize most unreservedly for treating governance as a gimmick with which to jimmy open the doors of majority territory while acknowledging that we will continue to do so in the future.
As the Prime Minister of Canada I apologize to the gun registry lobby for a failure to act and I vow to build a majority blockhouse from which to shoot dissenters with my illegal weapons and tiny smile. To Jack Layton I apologize for not growing a moustache myself. To gays and lesbians I ejaculate that our prior beliefs and statements were false and unkind. I apologize to the U.N. for undermining its mandate while asking for an increased role as if the world were indebted to us. And I apologize for my paranoia even though it isn’t paranoia because the world really is full of liberals and foreigners.
And I would like to apologize to the First Nations for apologizing and not meaning it. I would sincerely like to apologize for this death by a thousand cuts. I apologize for the tar sands, dirty oil, and for millions of dead ducks. I apologize for being the second Prime Minister from Calgary following a laissez-faire economic doctrine that inhibits egalitarian policy on every level. I apologize to Alberta for Alberta.
As, the Prime Minister of Canada, I would like to apologize for pretending to be an artist when I am a narrow minded economist with regressive social attitudes pinned to a strictly judgmental and religious fabric of punishment and venality.
And, lastly, I would like to apologize for being really damn boring except when I plunge the country into constitutional crisis for short-term political gain.
Since we have a Prime Minister that likes to pretend he’s an artist
I think all artists should pretend to be Prime Minister.
The Right Honourable Kemeny Babineau
Friday, November 5, 2010
Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s top 20 Con words.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
In his latest full-length book of poems, Decompositions, Ken Belford successfully deconstructs not only reading and writing, but also the various lexicons of an urban capitalist culture bent on control. The poems themselves read like a poem in decomposition, this is organicism to the letter, language decomposing, on our tongues, with our thoughts.
Friday, June 4, 2010
crayfish mash unit
spoonbeam learner curve
feet stammer wet reverb
seat solvent swerve
infinite pencil led
emulsified monument stove ticket
armed embrasure sentence trend
dam it knit
this sick fitness
legalize grout concert
removable thespian joust
field reason dialogue venison
raisin jingle sock volume
nomad laughter lens
bass key brisket basket
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
1 question Harper would censor
Stephen Harper questions frank discussion to:
a) avoid public scrutiny
b) borrow another $6 billion for profitable corporations
c) divert attention from poor record on bank regulations
d) justify applying one policy on abortion abroad and another at home
e) to make abortion illegal in Canada
f) ignore the clean energy economy
g) ignore the best educated, most highly-skilled workforce in the world
h) cut funding to arts festivals, women’s groups, gay pride events, environmental research and energy efficiency programs
i) waste taxpayers’ dollars in self-promotion associated with the Economic Action Plan – including TV, print and radio ads, signage in front of projects, and travel to and from photo-op announcements
j) do nothing to ease the pressure on our health care system
k) to avoid Access to Information
l) all of the above
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Mice in the cupboards eating peanut butter traps
until their eyes bulge out, neck down
asphyxiated by closure’s steel
Mice in the cupboards knowing what they need
about their world, not knowing enough
about the other.
Mice in the cupboards on a metabolic high
living their short furred lives in wary dwelling
rooted in a world of routes
knowing what they need ‘till terror springs
the silence of never knowing more.
Those tiny beads
that once were eyes, reflect
my thin looking.
Monday, April 12, 2010
It’s Central America man
call it hot C.A. Where the Mayan’s were
America is calling
The ABC of traveling
is don’t sweat it, not
even at high noon, listen
to the old Shade.
On the short drive in, from airport
to seaport, I hear the mahogany’s all gone. Which means
no more knocking on wood. Knock not.
Does opportunity knock, in a Swamp
-city trash bin?
has it being
Smile in the narrowstreets,
those hard eyes have seen
British rule and hurricanes
Sidewalks curbs and gutters, well
made of stone. (Like what the Romans left
in Gaul and Britain?)
The difference is
many would never have lived
Lumber town snake port,
where the sun didn’t shine
until the empire sat down.
On Spanish land
the English throne
gives the dog a bone.
At the olde gaol, punishment
was a capital crime. I mean to say
was by hanging.
Is it brutish, or british
to measure how
to hang a man
From a rope of sin
the devil dangled
Death is a door
Belize City waits
for an oceanbreeaze,
but not for whitecaps
that’d wash away
Clap board sun
goes up and down. Bare
foot boy on a bicycle
walking the dog, what
place is this? Tenacious.
Inland by Bus (Olde School): An On the Road Rhythm
Hattieville’s the town
a hurricane built,
after leaving another, flat
and further back
At the back o’ the bus
a sturdy little Mayan
throws up drunk
beer on floor
“Better lift your feet!”
We’re rolling on in
Then the driver’s helper
“Mop it up man!”
Soon we’ll go
where rooster’s crow
“The sun is up
in San Ignacio!”
Tell the driver
we’re going to Ranguana soon,
where the great heron showers
at the lip of the swamp
is where we’ll be.
There it goes
did you see it
thru the window
of these metal walls?
Like zinc lions
rusted to a mandrake root
it’s a difficult living
where the water is slow.
The iguana’s skin
is another tender organ
and the legs
taste like chicken.
Tell the driver
we’re going to Ranguana soon,
to ride a bird upon a stone
up and down like a mountain,
taste the colour in the sun.
so pink inside, the size
of a baby pig
Floating down the Mopan River on a Tire Tube
I ask Fernando where
is the fer-de-lance? And is
there any defence? He says
not to swim at night, and some
times not at all.
Bus Ride East, (tire by tire)
Into the sun
not orange is
Don’t monkey with the bananas
chase a snake thru cane
or hunt a man in the mangrove.
Let the wild ones live
as the naked ones do.
Palm tree casts a shadow
in time along the beach
q u a r t z s a n d t i c k s
a drink for the sun
is water and rum
butter me baby
The Conscious Ocean
Brains like coral ring and
harbour)))fflicks of thought.
Currentsurge fins finis
sharkskin plies the shallow.
Soft fingerlings of tomorrow
minnow all around a round.
This salted flesh a wound’s
where beauty is dissolved
The sea in ourselves
preys for life.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Raising the differences between racial groups to the rank of specific differences by giving those groups specific names is nothing but an attempt to exaggerate the dissimilarities by the application of taxonomic tricks.
Franz Weidenreich, from Apes, Giants and Man.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
There are collaborators, zealots and those who await vindication.
Christianity entered flesh wearing Western History’s dress.
Jesus was guilty of blasphemy and thought of himself as God’s fig leaf.
Intransigent monotheism leads to a Tragedy of Nature.
The Athletic event divine, may cast us, either up or down.
Mountainous caves in Turkey housed early Christians.
In the beginning the herd was divested of its rational principle.
The conquest of Death became a massive American campaign.
God entered Paul but believed in Peter better.
Christian authors condone no killing until Constantine.
The experience of the modern writer is to know neither success nor failure.
When the masses began to flock ardent spirits withdrew.
The Franks recognized the bishop from Rome to Ravenna.
Defenders of the Image argue that Art is Spirit’s depiction.
The Saints were militarized and Peter cut off his ear to hear about it.
Men without feeling desired to cleanse the monasteries.
Piety begat industry begat wealth smote piety.
The Church condones usury condemns condoms.
Luther took the bible and the Pope spilt money.
Violent conflict led to the problem of freedom.
The inquisitor is not curious but has the answer in mind.
Papal infallibility is thrice denied by corruption.
Protestant Liberalism invades the Universe.
The greatest numerical gain came from primitive people.
Modern Pietist movements inveigh a saccharine cult.
All are welcome to everlasting punishment.
America has the right to bear arms (when it wants bare breasts).
Peace is the sufferance of giving unwanted love.
We are the tantrums of a failed asceticism.
What wavers in illusion is made real by violence.