What We Must Do

“To recover our mental balance, we must respond to Trump as victims of trauma respond to abuse. We must build communities where we can find understanding and solidarity. We must allow ourselves to mourn. We must name the psychosis that afflicts us. We must carry out acts of civil disobedience and steadfast defiance to re empower others and ourselves. We must fend off the madness and engage in dialogue based on truth, literacy, empathy, and reality. We must invest more time in activities such as finding solace in nature, or focusing on music, theater, literature, art, even worship. Activities that hold the capacity for renewal and transcendence. This is the only way we will remain psychologically whole. Building an outer shell or attempting to hide will exacerbate our psychological distress and depression.”

Chris Hedges

A Superior Intellectual Force of One

Obama’s Barrage of Complete Sentences Seen as Brutal Attack on Trump

By Andy Borowitz, The New Yorker

25 April 17

The article below is satire. Andy Borowitz is an American comedian and New York Times-bestselling author who satirizes the news for his column, “The Borowitz Report.”

n an appearance at the University of Chicago on Monday, former President Barack Obama unloaded a relentless barrage of complete sentences in what was widely seen as a brutal attack on his successor, Donald Trump.

Appearing at his first public event since leaving office, Obama fired off a punishing fusillade of grammatically correct sentences, the likes of which the American people have not heard from the White House since he departed.

“He totally restricted his speech to complete sentences,” Tracy Klugian, a student at the event, said. “It was the most vicious takedown of Trump I’d ever seen.”

“About five or six sentences in, I noticed that all of his sentences had both nouns and verbs in them,” Carol Foyler, another student, said. “I couldn’t believe he was going after Trump like that.”

Obama’s blistering deployment of complete sentences clearly got under the skin of their intended target, who, moments after the event, responded with an angry tweet: “Obama bad (or sick) guy. Failing. Sad!”


Why wild birds alight on your shoulder, wild fish swim into your cupped hands




The very stars are justified.

The galaxy



I have proofread

and proofread

the beautiful script.


There are no



~ P. K. Page (1916-2010)


Short Lecture In the Form of A Course Description

My idea for a class is, you just sit in a classroom and read aloud until everyone is smiling. And then, you look around. And if someone is not smiling, you ask them why? And then you keep reading. It may take many different books, until they start smiling, too.

~ Mary Ruefle (b.1952), poet and professor of literature and creative writing

Three Songs of Gold

Song…Much of It Borrowed

How beautifully it sings.

How beautifully Sitwell sang it.

How beautifully Donne began it:

‘that God is an angel in an angel

and a stone in a stone

and a straw in a straw’.


I knew it all before

but The Canticle of the Rose

a long time on my shelf

and hidden by some flaw —

a kind of shelf in myself —

was suddenly visible


And that golden rain of poems

that glorious storm of poems

sang until they were heard:

that God is a poet in a poet

a poem in a poem

and a word in a word.


~ P. K. Page (1916-2010)



How Many Heavens…

The emeralds are singing on the grasses,

and in the trees the bells of the long cold are ringing —

My blood seems changed to emeralds like the spears

Of grass beneath the earth pulsing and singing.


The flame of the first blade

Is an angel piercing through the earth to sing

‘God is everything!’

The grass within the grass, the angel in the angel, flame

Within the flame. And He is the green shade that came

To be the heart of shade.’


The gray-beard angel of the stone,

Who has grown wise with age, cried ‘Not alone

Am I within my silence—God is the stone in

the still stone, the silence laid

In the heart of silence’  .   .  .  then, above the glade


The yellow straws of light

Whereof the sun has built his nest, cry ‘Bright

Is the world, the yellow straw

My brother—God is the straw within the straw:—All things

are Light.’


He is the sea of ripeness and the sweet apple’s emerald lore.

So you, my flame of grass, my root of the world from which all

Spring shall grow,

O you, my hawthorn bough of the stars, now leaning low

Through the day, for your flowers to kiss my lips, shall know

He is the core of the heart of love, and He, beyond laboring

seas, our ultimate shore.


~ Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)


“God is so omnipresent, as that the Ubiquitary will needs have the body of God everywhere, so omnipresent, as that the Stancarest will needs have God not only to be in everything, but to be everything—that God is an angel in an angel and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.”

~ John Donne (1573-1631), Sermon VII

Jared Kushner Slams Kim Jong-un

Jared Kushner Calls Kim Jong-un “Totally Unqualified Person” Who Got Job Only Through Nepotism

By Andy Borowitz, The New Yorker

19 April 17


The article below is satire. Andy Borowitz is an American comedian and New York Times-bestselling author who satirizes the news for his column, “The Borowitz Report.”

ffering a stunningly blunt appraisal of the North Korean leader, Jared Kushner said on Tuesday that Kim Jong-un was a “totally unqualified person” who attained his position of power only through nepotism.

“Here you have a guy who has no government experience, and he’s in charge of the whole thing,” Kushner said, in an interview with Fox News. “It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

Kushner noted that, instead of working his way up and acquiring the skills necessary to do his job, the North Korean leader had been given huge responsibilities and power “only because of family connections.”

“There’s only one word for that,” he said. “Nepotism.”

Kushner called the notion of such an unqualified person conducting foreign policy “beyond belief.”

“I mean, why would you let someone with no experience in foreign affairs anywhere near such important decisions?” Kushner added. “Why would anyone take someone like that seriously?”

Kushner said that the people of North Korea must look at the powerful position attained by the “totally inexperienced and unqualified” Kim and shake their heads. “They’ve got to be asking themselves, ‘Who elected him?’ ” he said.


+15 # CDMR 2017-04-19 13:45

This may be the best of Borowitz of all times. The pot is now calling the kettle black. Shameful!

+15 # ER444 2017-04-19 14:49

One of Andy’s best!!!

+10 # Wise woman 2017-04-19 17:16

Jared doesn’t know it yet, but he has just written his own life story. Thanks, Andy, for the preview. The Fiasco to be Remembered. Should make the NYT best seller list.

+10 # mashiguo 2017-04-19 19:04



New warmongers, Same old wars

Ten Lovely Poems by Joanne Kyger

from March 4, 2002  (from the site Michael McClure & Ray Manzarek)



Monday Before The Recall

                               Sun on the hand so deeply spotted
                           Yours for the duration, though

	        Little allergy in the inhalation of the moment
	        Liturgy of gold crown
                  or is it radio electronico

                     electric hedge trimmers
                       actually the acacia 
                           being clipped

                 In some kind of mantra of Glass 
               which surrounds and penetrates the air

Be deeply reverent as you move towards shore

It's getting pretty loud out here
  What happened between June and September this year
         was way too local to loaf
             just watched the deer change its spots
                and get older,  awww cute!
  Ate all the California poppies too

and if you want to go
                                                    Just Go
October 6, 2003

September Panics

    You got MY vote
         just let me know
            who you are
                Is that a dog howling?

You are very alone
      like everyone else
        You have just finished reading
            September's Vanity Fair

And the bright moonlight is empty

           'I don't want to hear 
            your CRAP anymore!'

            Your angst
            and your country's pain
            are often the same

     So pick up that Manual of Buddhism
             you threw on the floor

            Consider being

  like water running
  reaching the other shore
  and your mind won't be so bumming
  by some suck up oppressor

September 23, 2003

The Psycho Pathic Personality

"I am the commander
I do not need to explain why I do things.
That's the interesting thing about being
  Maybe someone needs to explain to ME
       why they say something, but I don't feel

                                         USA TODAY 11/25/02
                                         DIRECT QUOTE


Hit absolute rock bottom
Are you there rock?  No?

No rock on bottom

Buddhism Without A Book

                                      Well, you had to find it some
                 where     another person passed simplicity
              on to you, the practice of some syllables
             the position of a seated body   and you believe
          a lineage of recognition     of 'mind'

          not perfect, but intimate
          with suffering
          and the futility of maintaining
          those troublesome states
          of fear and hate

          "Try this
       Lift the corners of your mouth slightly
    and take three breaths
this is known as mouth yoga"*           (*Yvonne Rand)

It has nothing to do with smiling
It has nothing to do with happiness

March 7, 2003

Sleeping With The BBC

At least they have a nice accent
   when they talk about the bombs
       and a slight

twist of voice
when they use the word 'Bush'

When we go away
     how much do we need
         to take with us

           To take our beautiful country
              to get the words right

    Okay that's it

           You've written it down

White light
        coming through the water lily petals

              The yellow green glint
                   at the center

May 1, 2003


It's terrible what's happening in this war atmosphere
     when 'your' government lies
           to you and neglects the people

It's bad for your mind when the politics of connection
     show ignorance and preference
          for the stupid junta
              that has slyly preempted the beehive

Time to dive for the Madhyamika school
     the middle way ourselves
          through the course of the oppression to come

I'd prefer not to have to bother
   in this landscape of spring to judge
       whether these apple blossom branches
           are natural or not
               I just want to be ordinary
                   and finish my toast

While Arthur Okamura is on the prowl
   with his notebook and pen
      sketching the dust
           in the wind

May 11-15, 2003

The Distressed Look

        From our 'leaders' -- please be
      as frightened as you can in apartment
   buildings, bridges & airports-- 
                                    But really

                 you're on your own,
                     you rattled and oppressed citizens
                  of the 'free' world --
berserk jackals of the moment are after you!
    Look carefully at those you know --
                                       corporate crooks! have fucked

                    with your energy!

     'Freedom' is dubiously hyped to a world
against which 'our country' seems to be waging a war!
    Yes, a war against The World!   which is full of 
          creepy crawly evil turrrists.

                'You' my government,
                      have made us Totally Unpopular

May 30, 2002


     have individual feelings
     similar to those of humans   
A zillion little butterfly thoughts
      simultaneously flap.

You are the sum
      of all you 'know'
        and the more you forget
          the more ordinary
             you are really nothing
                 special   so why
                    all the anxious push-push
                      just hang

the clothes on the line
   Put the black ones
       in the washer
         Feel the myriad little bits
             of sensation
               that make up emotion

                            As the Sun
                           rises high
                         in the sky
                     so does the arrogance
         I'm still  waiting
           for the 'Buddhist'
              poem to arrive

                 Darn it takes so long
                      for the Dharma
                      Up in arms
                  on the moral high road
              wanting to sum it up
          and END it

April 2002

Look! new moon

           And you
              have been born  
                into the world
                  for the first time	

                                            a mere puppy! 
                                          don't be startled						
                                      'life' is made up
                                    of feelings        
                              of being at one
                            with the flea
                          that you are

                              Look! I'm disarmed
                         except for my rotten thoughts -- 

                                The familiar old joke
                             of the self
                                turned on, to the moment

                               "Suddenly, while at the depths
(Zen Master           it struck me like a thunderbolt
   Bankei                 that I HAD NEVER BEEN BORN
1922-1693)           and that my birthlessness
                                could settle every matter"

                      The birthless buddha mind
                           waits for life after capitalism
                               waits for a government
                                   that survives a president
                                       we can't afford anymore

                                                   along with his weird god
                                                       and his good sleep --

                                 -- "I'm a patient man
                                       and your five seconds are up POW!"
                                            And your locker room jock
                                       retires to his 'Turd Blossom'
                                    Karl Rove
                                 to get his brain tweaked
                              for the next round

                             Leaves one with Ridicule
                                as the least expensive
                         weapon around
                      towards a 'commander' in chief'
                   who insists he Must protect us

                         O protect us
                        from this protection
                             of war and coalition's aid
                                unwilling and overpaid

March 4, 2002


Joanne Kyger’s work reveals her as one of the major experimenters, hybridizers, and visionaries of poetry. Kyger is very much a poet of place, with a truly strong voice — delicate, graceful, and never wasteful; her poems explore themese of friendship, love, community, and morality, and draw on Native American myth as well as Asian religion and philosophy. Kyger’s love for poetry manifests itself in a grander scheme of consiousness-expansion and lesson, but always in the realm of every day.

After finishing school at the University of California, Santa Barbara, Joanne Kyger came north to San Francisco in 1957 where she informally studied with Robert Duncan and Jack Spicer and participated in the San Francisco Renaissance of writers & poets. She also met many of the writers of the newly defined “Beat Generation.” She went on to spend four years in Kyoto and India, before returning to California. Further travels took her to Europe and New York City before she settled on the coast north of San Francisco.

She has published over 20 books of poetry. She teaches summers at Naropa University’s Writing Program and at New College of San Francisco.

She was a winner of the National Poetry Series in 1983 for her book Going On. Her most recent book is As Ever: Selected Poems from Penguin Putnam 2002.

Why falling in love with today’s woman is so difficult

ANARGYROS, Nedra F. Harrison — Model, entertainer, spy, and retired cytologist, passed away September 20, 2004, age 88. Nedra was born in New York, NY, on December 3, 1915.

Preceded in death by parents, Leverette Roland and Florence Martha (Pickard) Harrison, and grandmother Florence Willingham Pickard. Survived by half-brother, Roland “Butch” Harrison of Live Oaks, FL. She marred sculptor Spero Drosos Anargyros October 21, 1940, and they divorced in 1969.

Nedra attended public schools in Delray Beach, Fl. and graduated from Tifton High School in Georgia. She also attended Emerson College in Boston from 1934-1936 and UC San Francisco in 1949. Nedra worked as a Power’s model in 1938, was the original model for The Dragon Lady of Milton Canoff’s Terry & the Pirates in 1939, and posed for Salvador Dali for his painting “Madonna of the Sea.” She rode the Quadrille on horseback for the first year of the New York World’s Fair in the Wild West and Rodeo. Nedra had a small role in Albert Johnson’s “The American Jubilee,” 1939-1940. Nedra was a licensed pilot, graduating from a pilot training program at Avenger Field in Sweetwater, TX, in 1942.

Nedra, who was fluent in seven or eight languages, served the Allied cause during World War Two as an undercover agent with the OSS in Europe, Asia, and North and South America. She often was able to obtain valuable secrets by becoming the mistress of enemy officers and diplomats. She once escaped capture by shooting a Nazi officer whose mistress she had become as part of her spying mission.

Following the war, Nedra studied biology. She supervised the cytology lab at UCSF and San Francisco General Hospital and retired in 1988. She was a member of the American Society of Clinical Pathologists, American Society of Cytotechonology, Women Flyers of America, Daughters of the American Revolution, (nat. 1st v. regent 1970), DAR of SF/LA Puerta de Oro chapter (regent 1990), Colonial Dames of America, Huguenot Society of California, United Daughters of the Confederacy, Phi Mu Gamma, President’s Club of Mercer University (Macon, Georgia), and a Christian Scientist. Nedra was a worldwide traveler and loved to scuba dive. Memorial donations may be made to First Church of Christ, Scientist, San Francisco, California or to the SPCA of San Francisco.


Nedra Harrison Anargyros — model for cartoon Dragon Lady

Michael Taylor, Chronicle Staff Writer

Published 4:00 am, Tuesday, October 5, 2004

Nedra Florence Harrison Anargyros, a woman of eclectic pursuits — she was the model for the Dragon Lady in Milton Caniff‘s cartoon “Terry and the Pirates” and later became a pilot, a scuba diver and a cytologist — died Sept. 20 in San Francisco. She was 88. Ms. Anargyros was married for nearly 30 years to sculptor Spero Drosos Anargyros, who died Sept. 10. The couple divorced in 1969.

Ms. Anargyros was a woman who largely kept her personal life to herself. Both her San Francisco attorney and her half brother in Florida mused aloud Monday how they wished they’d taken the time to learn more about her life.

Graced with a kind of exotic beauty, she grew up in the rural South and graduated from high school, in Tifton, Ga., where she was “Miss Tifton High School.” From 1934 to 1936, she studied at Emerson College in Boston and then moved to Florida and acted at the Sarasota Playhouse. That was followed by a move to New York, where she became a model.

In 1939, according to a 1980 article about Ms. Anargyros in the Tifton Gazette, Caniff was casting about for a character for his comic strip, and he had sent to a modeling agency a sketch of what he was looking for — something along the lines of the actress Joan Crawford. At the time, Ms. Anargyros was trying to become an actress and was modeling to pay the rent.

“Unfortunately,” she told the Gazette, “there weren’t many modeling jobs in the late 1930s for those with my looks — I had dark hair and a French- Oriental look.” Then her agent called and told her to go see Caniff.

“I went to see him and, when I walked in, he was looking at a big photo of me,” she told the Georgia newspaper. “He looked up as I came in and said, ‘There she is. That’s my Dragon Lady. She even has the dimple in her chin.’ “

At about the same time, she obtained a pilot’s license and became a member of Women Flyers of America.

In 1949, she came to San Francisco and eventually studied cytology, that part of biology that entails the study of cells. According to her attorney and longtime friend, William Holsman, she eventually supervised the cytology laboratory at UC San Francisco.

Two years after her divorce, she became a certified scuba diver. For a brief period in the 1970s, she was married to Chauncey Street Conger, but that marriage, too, ended in divorce, Holsman said. For many years she lived in a historical landmark-registered 1871 Victorian house in the 2500 block of Clay Street, and she worked at the lab until her retirement in 1988.

Despite her adventures in modeling and her worldwide image as the Dragon Lady in Caniff’s famed comic strip, Ms. Anargyros was not much given to brag about herself or aggrandize her various achievements.

“I was her friend and her attorney for many years,” Holsman said, “and she wasn’t given to talking about her personal history.”

But she did have an acute interest in American history — her family goes back generations — and particularly in the history of south Georgia. According to the Tifton Gazette, her grandfather, William Pickard, was once president of Mercer University in Macon, Ga., and Holsman said the bulk of her estate, some $3 million, most of which will come from the sale of her house, will go to Mercer.

In reminiscing about her Monday, Holsman said, as he described what he knew of her life, “I was thinking, why didn’t I do some oral history or something.” And from Live Oak, Fla., her half brother, Leverette Roland Harrison Jr., said, when discussing Ms. Anargyros’ life, that he wished he’d “taken the time” to ask his sister more questions about her life.

Holsman said Ms. Anargyros preferred memorial donations be sent to the First Church of Christ, Scientist, 1700 Franklin St., San Francisco, CA 94109 or to the San Francisco SPCA, 2500 16th St., San Francisco, CA 94103.


Two from the High Desert

The Trill

There above, there is a skylight, and a trill:

one of the household birds over my head—that

little colony of customers we have

among the richer troves of neighbor folk

with ponds and fancy feeders.

Across the view, a line of hills, a line of clouds:

they twine, a marriage of sorts, an in-out

mechanism—as marriage is, as love. Dark day

of blessing. There’s plenty rain. There has not been

rain for a thousand years it seems to us, nose

dry, throat dry, smoke in the eyes for weeks.

Never they say, never it breathes but pours.

When the fires burned a month ago:

from the three States: north,

west of us, our own across the ridge—smoke

lifting haze, apocalyptic light, smothered

the morning. There is a sign among the trees,

as if some wore a robe of mourning,

the robe a desiccated brown,

a prophecy: the dead among the live, those

who’ll await the once and future discontent,

those who will sleep without awakening.

Out with the dog and it’s as if a world,

a world was ending, as if the bomb, [the bomb

you may remember,] had dropped at last. And not

a flower in the garden all this year, no single

flower to humor the dry heart. But, there above,

the trill. To understand! To understand something

at last: how anything is given. How anything

evolves, and where it gets to, to what end—

where all seems endless [endless in purpose,

teleology.] Will the bird’s trill be a trill only?

Only a trill and past forever? In the red future?

In the abyssal present? Here plunging down to

some concretion, some fabric below which

it is not possible to go—and there it stands, the

trill, [stands?], no: suspended rather, suspended

in the restless, resting, eternity of air. And so

above, the trill. If it’s not possible for me, life,

joy, in its most ancient, laughing habit—at least

the beak. Let the bird joy, live, signify there is

some purpose in the purposeless.

There is no movement forward. Despairingly,

you try to move but cannot. Yet everything

connects. Sometimes, you know, the poem can-

not stop: from day to day, a gift in fragments.

—Nathaniel Tarn (b,1928)

Ins and Outs of the Forest Rivers (2008)



At Wovoka’s Ghostdance Place

I blow dandelion heads

across Wovoka’s ghostdance place.

Hear tractors whine through alfalfa fields.

Hear the call of deer continuing history.

Feel moment to moment

the river’s bend, shift of jetstream

bringing rain, heat in snakes

moving across highway.

I bow to magpies

drinking in light from dark,

old sediment, to grass waving

with resilience, to the force of everything

here long before us.

The way it was and who it’ll come back to be,

yielding, yielding

to all of it

that’s yielded me.


Walker River Nevada

Vernal Equinox, 1990


—John Brandi (b1943)

Shadow Play: Poems 1987-1991 (1992), also in Heartbeat Geography: Selected & Uncollected Poems 1966-1994 (1995) 


“Tarn’s work brings together mythology, Western and Eastern philosophy, political commentary, scientific investigations, naturalistic descriptions and very personal love poetry. This poetry redefines nature and art for human culture, bringing a genuine psychological and linguistic curiosity about the human mind, about what it means to be human.”

~ Brenda Hillman, Jacket


To stop life’s turn to nightmare

adopt the colorful patience of birds.

~ Nathaniel Tarn 


I love John Brandi’s ‘pledge to clarity,’ his politics in the sense of witness, his candor, his delight & heart towards children & friends, his terrific travel details…[his poems] sing with life.

~ Anne Waldman


Rumor has it he’s been tossed out of saloons throughout Bali & swamis lock the gates of ashrams when he’s in town, yet monkeys seem to like him.

~ Fishdrum


Outlaw Blues


Written by: Bob Dylan
Ain’t it hard to stumble
And land in some funny lagoon?
Ain’t it hard to stumble
And land in some muddy lagoon?
Especially when it’s nine below zero
And three o’clock in the afternoon.
Ain’t gonna hang no picture
Ain’t gonna hang no picture frame
Ain’t gonna hang no picture
Ain’t gonna hang no picture frame
Well, I might look like Robert Ford
But I feel just like Jesse James


Well, I wish I was on some
Australian mountain range
Oh, I wish I was on some
Australian mountain range
I got no reason to be there, but I
Imagine it would be some kind of change

I got my dark sunglasses
I got for good luck my black tooth
I got my dark sunglasses
I’m carryin’ for good luck my black tooth
Don’t ask me nothin’ about nothin’
I just might tell you the truth

I got a woman in Jackson
I ain’t gonna say her name
I got a woman in Jackson
I ain’t gonna say her name
She’s a brown-skin woman, but I
Love her just the same


Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music

Here’s a cover version of this Dylan poem-song, sung by Grace Slick with the folk-rock-blues band, The Great Society, before they changed their name to Jefferson Airplane. Like dozens of other neighborhood guys and gals in those early, pre-fame-&-decay Haight days, I had such a crush on Grace!


Here’s another cover, by Raising Scarlet