Dagnabits Archive April 2009

The WInd Always Screams at Me Here

Rocky the garbage man

said there was no air

down by the river

and he waved his hand

across his face

as if he were shooing away

everything

that had ever oppressed him.


Then Rocky asked

how my team had done

in the morning ball games,

taking an awkward uppercut

with his hands flying off

an imaginary bat handle.

Rocky observes a lot more

than he feels

he can articulate.


Rocky was wrong.

I sat on the rocks on the promontory

facing south

and the wind came

as it always does

when I'm here.

Always.…

Down By the River

Down By the River

Back When I Saw the Future

I just had reason to look back on a book proposal I wrote in December, 1990, three years before the graphical Web, called "I Have Seen the Future and It Is Nintendo (But Who Killed the Daily News?)"  The phrase "Daily News" was both a look at the ever-so-slow death of New York's Picture Newspaper and a metaphor for print newspapers in general, but I won't bore you recounting what we've all seen happening. I will, however, paste a paragraph that probably seems more prescient than it really is…

The Business Secrets of the Trappist Monks

About 15 years ago, I wrote a profile about August “Augie” Turak, a successful sales executive who had a proclivity for soaking in wisdom from anyone with anything perceptive to share, from his mentor, IBM’s legendary Lou Mobley, to a New York cab driver. Since then, Augie has drawn much wisdom from regular treks to Mepkin Abbey, a Trappist monastery in Moncks Corner, S.C. And along the way, he has found that the monastery's business model can be universally applied with impressive results.

I Saw Ray Davies on Austin City Limits Tonight

I want to tour with Feist

and shoot pool with Van Morrison

I want to play bongos behind Rickie Lee

and scat with Ray Charles.

I want to jam with Brian Wilson

and tell Jagger to fuck off, mate.


I want to be reincarnated

as a troubadour.


A Dylan,

reluctant in my genius

A Waits,

guffawing at my fame

A Cohen,

transcending my gift

(until I’m broke).


But when I sing,

I disturb the atmosphere

Like the rasp of a …

The drone of a …

The atonal mash of a …


I still can play

“A Well Respected…

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