“My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right. ”

- Allen Ginsberg America

“I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff’d with the stuff that is coarse and stuff’d with the stuff
that is fine”

-Walt Whitman Song of Myself

Utah Phillips

Utah Phillips died in May 2008 – I was lucky enough to see him live at the People’s Poetry Gathering in NYC back in either 1998 or 1999. It was back when I was 20-something and still had this whole “beat generation” and hobo/tramp obsession. I was reading Ginsberg, Kerouac, seeing Ani DiFranco almost every chance I could… and just sinking deep into “fellow worker” stories. I don’t really read much anymore that’s can be considered “fun” or “enlightening.” My days consist of emails, chats, and documents and files. By the time I’m done with working I’m done with reading… and try to keep my brain from going dead by watching some “smart” tv shows and maybe reading some NY Times articles via my iphone. Lately I’ve missed my days of unemployment, reading and reading till my eyes were blurry, writing stupid stories, little poems, and playing guitar till my hand hurt. However, none of these things pay bills and so here I am – just remembering. Is this what it means to get old? You remember things you liked and loved, but can’t feel the same about your current hobbies or lack thereof?

Here’s one of my fav. artists who is also a poet – I still can’t believe she can string words together like this… and make a story and pull an emotion.