Friday, January 23, 2026
Minneapolis
Saturday, December 23, 2017
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
10-10-10: ( redux redux redux ... )
hip hop sounds
bang around the cluttered porch,
scale the dark, rattle the blinds -
maples leaves and falling rain
hard times -
crows worrying
roadkill
just milling about
in blue, neon light -
last of the fireflies
10-10-10
Her voice echoed down the alley, bouncing off the buildings, loud in the crisp air. Once strident and accusatory, now pleading, bemoaning the hour, the situation, a bit more aggressive. Shutting the walk-up loft's battered door carefully behind him, he quickened his pace. She was holding her own. He wondered when she would contradict herself. As though it mattered.
"Ma'am. We're just saying there have been complaints."
A man's voice. It carried a warning. He was becoming annoyed. The three chevrons on his sleeve heaved and roiled, biceps flexing nervously, the blue cloth barely restraining them. Behind where he stood two squads cars waited in the little parking space. Just beyond the altercation beginning to unfold, hidden from the view of passersby, lay a respite of sorts.
Tucked into a notch between buildings, its few humble features remained relatively undisturbed, placed with care and an eye for design. Two worn but sturdy benches flanked a huge circular picnic table with seats attached, liberated from the back of the bar next door. During a somewhat drunken debauch of self-righteousness, it had been rolled away in broad daylight. There it stood at odd angles to three wooden planters with found weeds inside, strains of native prairie plants a thousand years old, seeds carried on a jet stream.
From a Shepard's hook in a corner hung a bird feeder and chimes, a place to store ladders and other implements on the opposite. Always at the ready, a cooking grill stood in the center. Neat and orderly as any English garden, a border of Perennials completed the scene. The tiny oasis belied the bleakness of the neighborhood's meager prospects. It was a sanctuary literally carved out of the asphalt.
Humming and clicking as they cooled, the police cars squatted menacingly, paint schemes in black and white a stark contrast to the gold insignias like badges on each door. The constant babble of radioed dispatches emitted unintelligible commands to anyone more than a few feet distant. Adding to the cacophony, strobe lights flashing red and blue, every surface of worn Chicago brick bedazzled without mercy.
She seemed oblivious to the danger despite this tension. "Or is she", he thought? He couldn't be sure even now. Implacably forceful or subtly benign, her moods could stymie him. At times it made him want to retreat. Walking out quietly, sometimes he did, or to go for a drive. He would jump on the trampoline with her other times. She could engage on an uncomfortably personal level, arguing every point impossible somehow, total strangers or her beloveds, until he forgot how it started. It didn't often matter, since both were adult children of alcoholics, or was it a peculiarity of the neighborhood?
Two more officers lingered in the shadows, chattering quietly like bored observers watching a ballgame.
"Why can't we enjoy our birthdays! It's just a little party!" Her speech slurred slightly. " It's 10-10-10!"
As though explaining to the dullest of children, she enunciated with an emphasis of particular stridency, tangential or not, sibilants less distinct with each phrase.
"We can't even celebrate our birthdays?!" She repeated dates and numbers to anybody who might be listening.
Closer now, he inhaled and breathed out, slowed his walk, willing himself a compliant posture. Making sure to stay in the light, he held both hands open and in plain sight.
Nearing the end of his patience, the Sargeant's voice took on a darker tone.
"Ma'am, we've been called out twice. Next time, somebody's going down." He wasn't having any circular arguments. The warning had been directed at the both of them.
The husband directed his gaze at his wife only and smiled.
"What'cha doin', hon? Gettin' into a fight with the cops?" like berating a little girl, he continued, calmly yet each word with the slightest emphasis.
"I just took the dogs in now. We're all goin' in - right now."
Both promise and order, an offer of compliance to the Sargeant, feigned admonishment to his wife. Surely she knew how to respond? The situation had turned serious.
He'd been in a similar situation years earlier and only a few blocks away. Like this one, it started with the neighbors and a noise complaint raising someone's ire. Subsequently, a radio turned too loud set off a chain of events uncommon to a local noise ordinance. With the right set of personality traits any situation can escalate from the ridiculous to sublime. Involving police contact, in an instant a right horror show.
The complainant was known to the police department as a serial caller to 911 who placed grievances against the officers responding if she felt slighted or deemed "enforcement" was lacking.
The lady of that house where the call was made on became belligerent enough to be put under arrest. A guest, practically a stranger, inexplicably jumped up and assaulted one officer.
Calls went out for back up. Stuck in a no man's land, the husband went to ground when an officer stuck his fingers in his eyes from behind. Eerily calm, he complimented the effectiveness of the hold. This earned him curses, boots and a tasing he didn't even feel, so involved was he in the wonder of police tactics.
Sixteen officers responded to the call in all, a few were acquaintances from the tavern they'd both frequent. A vehement argument broke out with the first officers on the scene. Fisticuffs broke out in the middle of the street. None of this appeared on the record. A witness later quipped the scene resembled sharks at a kill.
What had set off this misfortune? The husband told his wife to get in the house. His voice attracted the attention of an angry Lieutenant on scene. He then gave chase to the wife who managed to elude him. She locked the screen door behind her and then taunted him through the screen as he commanded her to come out. The husband eluded three tackles before his capture.
Many years later, they both understood the other's most subtle gestures. As if on cue, respond she did.
Abruptly turning on her heel, she marched off in the opposite direction. Her arms and elbows apace with her gait, it appeared as though to make a last stand in the garden cul de sac. For the briefest of moments he looked after her not sure what to do.
Well aware that pursuit of this one could lead in many unexpected directions, he remained still. Quietly, he observed her gamine walk, so compelling and graceful, a rare species in retreat, the insides of her long wrists exposed and turned slightly askew.
For whatever odd reason, the strains of a familiar love song came to him. Maybe a chord from a car stereo passing on Highway 61 set it off. This conjured up a picture, a gathering of people your Mother wouldn't approve of, its melody lilting, an old standard Norteno style, lyrics evoking casual friendships become intense affairs and grown more entwined than bargained for. An odd exhilaration overcame him then, reckless and inviting, shivering up his spine. He exhaled quickly, like stifling an errant laugh during a sermon in church. His humor was doubtlessly irreverent, however.
At that moment she, too, was overcome. Her voice was always one that carried. Nor did it go unnoticed this time. an obscene insult hung precariously in the crisp, night air, taunting as an errant curve ball. And in that instant the situation changed. Authority had been breached. Egos were at stake. A determination had to be made. This ball was about to be smacked out of the park.
Throughout the shift the young cop riding shotgun beside the Sargeant remained quiet and motionless. Therefore he was unnoticed. Slumped in the car seat as he was, he was able to observe without being seen, a tactic he'd learned during two tours in Afghanistan and the Mid East. He'd also learned the art of ambush, training extensively in assault tactics, before transfer to a Police unit attached to JSOC. A stranger in a strange land, he'd guarded and arrested foreigners and friendlies alike; even stood patrol over some peculiarly questionable fields of native crops.
Mostly, his duties were apprehensions involving rapid, fully armed actions against unknown targets. The bulk were turkey walks, fully equipped squadrons against one or two unarmed suspects, actions Blackwater and other unnamed mercenary units wouldn't or couldn't handle.
On his discharge he'd locked in a police department job within just a few weeks. This was his 6th actual duty night out, and he was bored to death. Like the sound of a starter's gun, his demeanor burst from quiet watcher to angry agitation.
"What did you say, Ma'am?!" No response. "Wait a minute - come back here!"
The last order barked with command. He'd had enough posh talk - any patience he'd learned on this job had suddenly regressed to tactical training and muscle memory.
Barely able to wrest control, the weary Sargeant looked ready to stand down and let the excited rookie run with it. But, in his haste, the newbie had locked himself in the car. He hadn't learned to be a good Jump Out Boy yet, tackling unassuming pedestrians with a leap out of a moving SUV from behind tinted windows. Robbed of this exhilaration, he cursed his inattention and fumbled with the handle.
The husband still hadn't moved. He lingered as though in deep contemplation, then eyeing his wife's retreat, seemingly unaware of the forces gathering around him. Actually, struck by the incongruity and happenstance, he marveled at the chain of events that had led to that point in time, its escalation and Absurdity.
In his position to "agree" with the new recruit and stand down would be the safest course. He felt the aggravation in his voice and the menace below its surface. His funds were low and bail for two would be impossible on short notice. The country was still in a Recession. The multi-billion dollar industry of fraud carried on unabated. He lived by his wits and his craft, breadwinner an anachronism, building a name for himself in the Black Economy at worst.
Who would want to spend the weekend in jail anyway? You could get
roughed up in the process - he'd heard the stories of the trip up the
isolated jailhouse elevator. The memory inherent in unchecked authority
washed over him like an icy blackness. Sighing inaudibly, he gathered
himself as the young cop flung open the door. He turned, with a smile, and then spoke.
"Ahhh, she's just had too much to drink is all."
Mockingly penitent,
delivered like some country bumpkin. He scuffed the toe of his boot
along the pavement, for emphasis, which placed him squarely to block the
squad car's door.
Short of leering, his grin widened, a little over the top but for
a lack of concern in his eye. The display distracted the young cop. He
hadn't trained quite this way. He'd certainly never been confronted so.
The husband's body language reverted to a cat taking pleasure in teasing a mouse.
" ... gee, officer - guess I better get control of my bitch."
each in turn,
the crickets all go silent -
Autumn's voice
` ` ` ;;;;;
Harvest Festival-
new faces parade viewing
marching out the old
morning glories
cling to an awning -
a squall past,
frayed and tattered
liquor stores, convenience marts and geese departing
under surveillance -
some stragglers here,
hungry sparrows there
in full view of the milky way -
she says somethin' dirty
that makes me laugh
on lotus leaves
this world's dewdrops
are warped
-Issa, 1819
http:/xula.edu/issa//cat.
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Reefer Madness
We stood around and laughed, making jokes and piling derision on some cops in Missouri today. They'd posted on their Facebook timeline news of a "raid" on a rural field somewhere, claiming a major bust of a marijuana growing operation. They had to pull the post down after it was pointed out by numerous commentators the illicit material they posed next to in their photo op was was in fact cannabis ruderalis - Hemp plant. A big to do over nothing; it grows wild all across the country still, since the day hemp was a commonly accepted commodity, self-seeding illicit patches and spurring controversy from time to time.
Sometime after Prohibition, prior to the Red Scare and the inception of the Central Intelligence Agency, a rabble rousing lobby in Government made it into a boogieman to be persecuted and controlled. So successful was the campaign that most have forgotten its beneficial beginnings. Mention it now and our conditioning compels us to associate it only with criminal behavior.
A number of us began to share stories of our encounters with marijuana, criminal, bumbling, with intent or just by chance, swapping lies and tall tales in a friendly competition of sorts. Some of the stories were more incredulous than others, while none spoke of its uses in industry. some of the more odd confrontations addressed culture as well, due its relation to the outlawed strains that put so many in jeopardy with the law.
We had a plant growing by our back door when we were very young and living on our own. It went eleven feet tall if not more. Just for a joke we threw some seeds down from the stoop to land next to a small garden. This was a result along with a handful of specimens of varying sizes surrounding it.
The cops had to visit one day - East Side was always poppin' - responding to some call or other. I was always the front man, so came out to address them in my best schmooze. And there, over my right shoulder, stood the giant sweet leaf, fully expanded in the high southern sun, its stench and stalk rising from grade to far above the deck where I stood. The lead cop looked at me and then looked right at Weedzilla but didn't say a word. I didn't move a muscle.
The state went on to charge possession with a misdemeanor eventually, a $100 ticket' essentially. Seems like pretty reasonable legislation to me.
Some made mention of more harrowing experiences, about society and lawlessness, the politicization of an issue, of the militarization of police and their training and mindset towards the public. Others reminisced about their lives growing up in various regions, revealing an homogeneity of experience, its changes, and what they might portend.
You could pick Minnesota Green from down by the tracks all day long. The first of its seeds fallen off plant material loaded on the passing cars, hemp for the war effort, and for industry and export. The country's breadbasket brought all it's production here, across the plains to The Great Woods, the northern most port on the Mississippi and a city of thieves, the most boring town in America.
A million freight cars must have passed through here in its heyday. Even now, if one has his wits about him, where ever you are, night or day, you soon will hear the train's echo down any street, through every nook and alley.
I complain a lot about this place. I wonder what it will look like in ten years?
Harvest moon --
halcyon days
in Rivertown
;;;;
Monday, July 10, 2017
Quick Shot: After The Holiday
Hey, Brother!Good to hear a friendly voice. Yeah, I hear it ...
Shooting off fireworks with the kids for the first time, huh? By the way, I got your numbers - hang on - hmm hmm. Boy, I can just imagine. First thing I think of is their faces lightin' up ... you ever wonder what moments they'll remember? Now there's a thought we keep to ourselves, for want of appearing stoic, or strong, or unconcerned with trifles - the first thought always for our kids, always wondering if we're right or wrong.
I sure as Hell hope you got that camera rollin' now and then. It's aesthetically pleasing - if you're good or just a lucky fella you might even catch that eternal moment, if at all possible - depending on your attention to details as they occur. That other stuff remains unrecorded - some of it deliberately - if only to exercise the mind, maybe. Years later, even, to judge your character or gauge your maturity; a marker set like a guide stone along the roadway to note the advance of time.
And then? The thrill of the Fourth when I was little boy, in all its noise and fury, popped into my pumpkin head.
"I know how to handle fireworks!" The 10 year old me piped up, looking hopefully at my Dad.
"You'll know how to handle them when one blows up in your hand". He looked at me directly, a little sternly, no malice intended but like he knew something I didn't, part of the Pantheon of knowledge only Daddy's had access to - O', would we ever rise to that level? Still, it urged me to take caution, if more for the seeking of approval than anything to do with my personal safety.
I did pretty well actually, even after we returned to River City, the City of Thieves and the most boring town in America. Plenty of trouble for a lad to get into, times being what they were. Each situation to be challenged or just ignored, at the height of your fancy for mischief. Plenty of that to go around, all right. Pre-Urban Renewal, the kids near feral and the people as funky as that Old River that flowed past at the lowest points along the Levee. Yeah, the return was a retreat really, to my "home". My father's, really, while I remained a stranger. I been one since, anywhere I go. I'm about the same age as him now.
You know what happens don't you? That firecracker with the quick wick blows up in your fingers. FUCK! Hurt's worse than frostbite, god damn it, hurts like a motherfucker for a while. So what do you do?
You sure as Hell don't cry. Not in front of anybody at least. Unh unh. Shake off those tears and just keep going like nothing ever happened ... show off the mark it left maybe.
But, what about your Mama's?
a piece of string
to hold it all together -
traces of dreams
Saturday, June 17, 2017
Reels
The World theater, Orpheum, and Riviera theatres are long gone from the old downtown. So is the loop and the promenade of cars, driving in circles, in order to be seen and look at others looking. How Midwestern a scene. A cast of characters in its own right. A costume production; one of many staged by a procession of Mayors, Councilmen and minor Pontiffs attuned to changing trends, morals and political expediency spanning a century or more. Along with their alleged demise, the boarded windows and failed businesses, the vestiges of human frailty spring anew from blueprints for urban renewal and change mandated by a Greater Plan.
The World Theater is renamed the F. Scott Fitzgerald Theater, rehabilitated to former glory to honor a literary icon transcended from seasonal affective disorder and bouts with alcoholism. It was even home to a New York maven and his popularly woe-be-gone radio show for a time, although, a tribute to the American Midwest of itself.
Why Keillor never split for the salons of the East Coast I haven’t a clue; I don’t think he stayed for the winters. The eternal hope and optimism espoused by the erstwhile luminary, perhaps, or its long-standing designation as "most boring town in America"? That's why I stayed so long. Used to be, people would just fly over.
Hard to believe we watched so many epic films as we did when rats patrolled the darkened aisles and vagrants slept unnoticed, therefore undisturbed, in sticky, threadbare chairs. Despite the restored opulence of the ’20′s and ’30′s, a funky decadence remains embedded in my mind - cigarette smoke curling through the projector's images, the smell of rot emanating from behind ancient curtains ...
It may have been a respite, from the the hot, humid Summers to the February sun's harsh glare, for this obscure, little prairie town on a big river in America’s Breadbasket. Or maybe it was the lingering omission of our fair city’s fathers cavorting with Depression era gangsters, or the seed of urban decay, its stealthy creep through each neighborhood implanted by the wealth that dripped from the Gold Coast on down to the levees and the landings and the last port North on the river.
Along Summit Avenue, from the Mississippi bluffs to the State Capital, looking down on the city itself, the likes of James J. Hill and the other robber barons thrived off the spoils of labor accrued from thousands of poor European immigrants. Decades have passed since then, unnoticed yet returned full circle, the processes begun anew.
But for the price of a dollar you could spend “all day” escaping from whatever ailed you, lost in Technicolor dreams, even while the very bricks and stone River City stood upon crumbled all around.
between cheap seats
and the flickering light -
the space between reels
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Tattoo
Running full out, barefoot and shirtless on hot, sticky streets, shards of broken bottles brief flashes of yellow in sodium light. The crickets go quiet when we rush past, two ghosts on a rippling breeze. And then - Surprise! - we catch up. Out comes the mace as one goes arse over teakettle to test the cement, another, cut off at the knees. Payback is a bitch.
Walking home again, we ditch the weapons just as the police arrive. Two squad cars confront us, another closes in our flank. We'd just committed a felony assault, nor does the law allow that two wrongs make a right. I make certain to contain a smile when two familiar faces appear from behind the semaphores blinding light.
For once it's enjoyable talking to the cops. As a rule one should never talk to police. They like us, too - you can tell by the ribbing they give us - for being shoe-less, in just our skivvies, for that matter. But that's how fast things happen in this neighborhood. One officer cracks that training barefoot has its drawbacks, and admittedly, I don't know, but, in hindsight acknowledge my uncertainty about the glass. The proper response - we'd left in a hurry, like it happens every day, or night in this case - just act like it's nothing at all.
There's a point we share consensus with. Each of us knows "the law" can't get there in time. And, we are of the Old School. A fact of which many of the blatantly disrespectful newcomers are unaware of. The frequency in which they appear has grown exponentially relative to the general decline of our city, a fact we no longer bother to associate with connotations of outrage. The adrenaline rush isn't the same either; more a tacit reminder of our existence and determined acceptance of duty to a square block or two we claim as our own. We are, after all, products of its time and repetition of history.
As we linger, our last few moments together spent comfortably in idle chatter with the waning crescent grinning above, an eery calm descends upon us all.
sparrows scatter
through stands of bamboo -
that brand new tattoo
;;;
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Summer in the City
iridescence -
amidst the dandelions,
sleek crows forage
through bits of bright litter
stinging nettles,
young maples like weeds -
the mystery behind
your manicured lawns
trumpet vines
through the broken tarmac -
gangbangers on the corner
argue on their iPhones
the texture of twine -
high summer sun bakes
the old brick wall
a dusty-red wren
perches on a pail -
heat shimmer's glare
above the hot-tar roof
that musty smell,
limestone and broken glass -
the stain of fallen walnuts
stuck to our hands
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Patch
I was up in the oil patch when I showed Bobby, that old Navajo elder, my brand new cowboy hat. I wanted to know what part of the country it hailed from. It definitely had a distinct presence, no doubt about that, and not something I'd normally wear.
Just what I thought. Texas. Damn straight, Missie, and a 10X besides. What that means is it's tall and sturdy, and can't be blocked no more. It's straw, like a working man would wear, but with some kinda resin coating applied so to stand up to any kind of weather, dyed white, so to reflect that noon day heat. It fits real good, nice and snug, so it won't blow off in the wind nor fall off in a tumble.
Bob, on the other hand, he's gotta 4X, which is far more pliable, so as to give with the wind or the rain, and it's shape can be shifted to almost any form imaginable.
I pointed to the crow's feather tucked in mine. It molted from one of those city crows where I come from, found in the alley by my front door just before I started on this journey. I stuck it in there for a little bit of luck. Cocked to one side, it gave that hat more than a little bit of flair.
I told him how they sometimes talk to me in their guttural city voices. Sometimes I'd talk back. Maybe ask a question directly, in my tone of voice or the way I'd look. They might look back at me then, turn their heads to eye me curiously. Sometimes they'd cry out angrily, others plaintively, a clucking sound, lonely or sad. Trying to warn me, I thought, or, just maybe, trying to encourage?
He looked at it for a time, and then said it was medicine - it can cure cancer. I figure that's a good thing, 'cause I've been smokin' a lot more lately, you know?
the hawk moth takes
its last sip of nectar -
the Bakken and the shale

