Evan Hawthorn's Blog

Evan Hawthorn's Blog
(visual aid by Christian Schloe)

Monday, December 31, 2018

* unpaving the mywayed skyway; a tolling in eight windows * (for consumptive presumption's inventery of intentions)


























* la primera ventana *

there went another one.

they never let up,
these
well meant takes

skimming
apparencies'
paving of mistakes.

the doubt that benefits
denial's vialed sweepstakes
of tampered,
brokered
breaks.

words to the wise
spouting
that
this or that
filler in the blank
hasn't
yet "learned the lesson"

from
the last time
this
or that
was "tried."

as if
the monuments
to rapacious self focus
who make it
to the
top
of the heap

of
vetted abettors
and
identity-slung magnets
that
represent
the psychopaths

(who pull the strings
of the sting
called "America")

devote their time
to
trying to learn

how
to
make things better

for that profitless rabble
that's
meant for their herd

or the hemmed 'them' scrabble
that's
not
even
seen.

honing such skills
couldn't help
but dry up
slicked and spurting
kickback faster

than
the coasting toasting
of
waning earthen aquifers.

so the "lessons"
go unlearned,

a hit and run
mishap
of
decency spurned.

the viral spiraled stairway
tripping its missteps
that
happen to plunder
the
commons asunder.

perpetrating attrition's
numbing repetition
of
oft vended
colour coded blunders

(that pulp of disappointment
so redundantly amiss
in
cinched and wincing
boys in blue lynchings.)

an accidental
strangulation
of
public education.

another lined up
community ignited
as a cloaked
soaked votive
to
loco-lucre motives,

just
fracking gaffe
stoked on our behalf.

the steady lurch to the right,
five decades
and
counting,
regardless of bower empowered,

all of it
an astonishing
coincidence
of
beneficence gone astray;

the doctored to do little
pushmi-pullyu
binary beast
at the ceremonial gates
of saim-wai-same-way

bearing
the fished and dished wishes
of we the weeded people
to the
hum-drummed thrum
of
the conundrum's
puzzling heartstrings.

fizzled out failure
to sled the spread
of
the humours of democracy

through
haphazard
angelic gropings

doping the scoping
and
raking in the stakes

planking aggression's
splendoured netting
of fêted
regretted invasions.

just a bad luck string
of
genocidal incidentals.

such as,

say,

eighty five percent
of Southeast Asia's
pack animals

slaughtered by mistake

falling by wayside's
happenstanced faux pas
that
wiped out the rice surplus

(oddly reminiscent
of the mysterious quandary
that misplaced
the American buffalo)

making emaciated,
broken-hearted farmers
into
beasts of burden

forced to duck
those fleecing
"global policing"
delousing dousings
of
napalm

(the wonder chemistry
unintentionally invented,
on
history's brightest side,
to
melt people's skin
till it's gone)

whilst bravely facing

the landmines,
strafing,
and
agent orange

in
hopes their
children
might still be around

to eat whatever

comes out of all that.

but hey,
it's our flyboys'
righteous preserve,

the profiling of courage
in curbing's reserve

(notwithstanding
the PBS blessed,
Times window dressed

festooning blithe asides
of
goodly misguiding
and
unAmerican,
under-appreciation.)

yet malformed little frames
are still being
crippled
by
the same mislaid crops
sixty
years
on

and the braying stays
and preying trunks
have consistently refused
to help clean the mess
or supply any charts.

rather a cooperative,
planned ahead oversight, that

put away for the future,
with an eye to Uncle Sam's
demented Green Giant
circle perked playdate
with
magic sprouting Death.

*





























* la segunda ventana *

any eavesdropping alien
undeflected  by "interest"

observing those

(attention-tugging,
bugged and plugging,
flattering,
collateralling,
elements under
indigenous feet-eating,
shim-shimmery-gimicked,
courtesy-flipping,
constitution-stripping,)

metaphysically misplacing,
cleaved to
bleeping boxes

would tell you

the highway to hell
is
paved
with
invented intentions.

(the eternal infernal
dumping ground
of
presumption's
stumped assumptions.)

and while some might say
it
amounts
to
evasion,

i put it down
to the
cultured epidemic
of
breathed in brainwashing

"only essential"
progeny are weaned on

from
besting,
vested Western
"exceptional" birth

to
empathy's
unremarked grave.

*


* la tercera ventana *

in the stolen "homeland"
it's
rumoured
the
plague began

somewhere
between
the
discovery

(on Thanksgiving's fabled table)

of
other peoples'
resources

and
the ingenious
invention
of
whiteness.

that is,

the appetite
for yet to be
rebranded patches
of
batchable,
dispatchable dirt

and
the conceit
of scaled palings,
hoisting
the crosses
of
dehumanization's
fell ascension

in
its ladled
cradle
of
conscience widowed,
alpha prowed,
virgin ploughing
myth.

*
































* la cuarta ventana *

the bluff buffers
of rusted party planks

(entrusted
with encrusting
establishment flanks)

are not stupid.

and though insanity
has been observed,
doing the same thing
over and over,
expecting different outcomes

that's only the prognosis
the media scabs,
infecting its blankets
for the public consumption.

these mainlining
mainstreamed
functionaries
are functioning.

they can grease their palms
without tipping off a sweat.

they've mastered the art
of getting ahead
and
head to the head of the class,

acing the system
of
dangled worth
that
adeptly finagles a pass

from
all the usual
un-suspects

and the quoromed forums
of status bent vents;

snaking banked editors
of
ranking "news" vapours,

the war crime profiteers'
industrious, unrepentant
chanticleers of record,

and
the anchors of dictation
at
variously hued
anesthetizing networks;

reign of ingrained disdain,
home range deranging,
'splosives dosing,
hormone flexing,
sheen splaining screenwriters
with
pentagon sponsors
rolling their pentagram hexes;

graft rafted vanities
of distortion's escorting
on
embossed glossed menus
sporting purporting
"representative"
indenturing precedents;

stylish compilers
of proportionless fortune
employing victorious
professional deceivers
on
autumnally reinstated retainers
to
arrange

these

precise

outcomes;

legions of zombie operatives
from privatizing vectors
writing legislation
that
Democrats and Republicans
pass off

into the dearth
of
big brother's otherhood

that masquerades as law.

fully briefed and vetted,
their careers quite indebted;

revolving through
posh backscratching doors,

concealing our ceilings
under their floors;

all the slated platings

calculated
or
skated,

syncopated
or
understated,

baited
and
anticipated,

knowing full well
the
hell
to
expect.

and despite the didactics,
the give and take antics,
there looms in their attics
no changings of tactics.

the ante's upped
and
the nightmare nuzzled
with
every bundled circus
and
each descending rung.

*

* la quinta ventana *

for those who were paying attention

(before the distraction
pranced afore the curtains,

to the six consistent
right reeling decades
prior to
Rumpelstiltskin's
arisen resistance)

the time
has
long since passed

when one
really
ought to consider

that the agents
of
our destruction

have different goals
seasoning reasoning
and
vining designs

than
those that stem
from
clung-to hopes
that trine
from
thine or mine.

hence
the speeches and kvetches
that
plumb blemished niches
or
beseech sketchy crèches

pointing out
the fumbled foibles
and
volleyed follies
of
leveraged, edging ventures

are
themselves
pointless endeavours.

for only tuned in choirs
can read what's in that music.

and trapped
by their
own
traipsing bacon
in
the snarled shoestrings
of
ratings sating Frankenstein

the Republican
irresponsive readers
and
grueling schools
of fooling, pooling ghouls

don't want for coaching.

they're not in the least confused.

(their minding's
too steepled for that.)

just selfish and cruel.

for they've never divined compassion.

like fundamental Christians
who are
fundamentally not.

(plastic Jesus steers
the careening preen
of auto pilot sin.
the saved don't rummage
their souls for a spare
since cruise controls their spin.)

they haven't yet grasped
the span of the bridge
where
yawning adolescence
collapses
its
clasp

revealing
the
wondrous salvation
that
other egos exist.

like an infant
whose blurry world unfurls
on feeding times
and stumbling parents

their vision's a one way mirror
that reflects

only them.

like the hankering angst
buoying of bluster
for a beta stacked waxing
of ganged up esteem

in that flux of adulation
for the pretensed isolation
of cause from effect,

nailing "alpha" "merit"
on the feminine meat
dragged back to a cave
of furnished mystique,

thinking
the cookie cutter
fear failed to bounce back from

springs all there is
to life.

*

* la sexta ventana *

the Democrats'
inflated and crated,
fate faithed followers

elude their
better selves
as
blindered,
righteous hollowers
are tended
to do.

from berth
immersed
in
mythic worth,

exclusively styed,

progressively dyed,

disconnectively,
competitively pried;

identified and
stratified,
and
seamed into teams;

confectioned with injections
of reverse-inversed projection,

fed on the glow of that
stalking picture show,

distracting welling limelight
from its absent introspection;

imbibing the subscribing
pursuant blow by blow

of the firmament's
imbursing
of
hive contrivenced fears;

asleep at the wheel
when their "side" is at bat,

lulled by the filled up space
of
how it all appears,

by the unnoticed humming
of unshifting gears;

by soft spoken tokens
and well drafted shafts
in
the mainlined mining
of headlining beams;

not bothered with acts
but
jousting over dreams;

focused on hocus,
24-7,

hooked on the tonics
that privatize phonics,

inured,
reassured,

most majestically moored;

hypnotically unsensitized,

reflection unencumbered,
culpability denied;

presumptively internalized,

prised in "good guy" guise;

defensively reflexive
and
compartmentalized,

righted might and violence
-tithed and -deified.

in the scribed diatribes
of
omissions implied

(history a mystery scried,)

independence derided,
its leaders decried,

connections uprooted,
cream themed
and
demon styed,

and the crime of chiming
their feelings
despised,

unfamiliarized and localized,

caulked and cauterized.

*






















* la séptima ventana *

to the zoned out chorus
of systematically
symptomatic,

emphatically unrecognised siblings

self-anointed liberty
self-applaudingly deprives

in that ghostly dispossessing

unhosting
of
voices,

lost in the hymnals
of would be independence
the
shrapnel never counts,

and those
disembodied other
unsampled,
unsung,

untempled stoic tongues

in the unbelonging throngs
outside
or
within
the convinced fence of freedom's

marketed audience,

with all those
silenced

sighs to see

and

tears with which to hear,

the pander glamming asses,
half a century since

mastered
their staring,
unerringly unsparing

spake of forking rungs,

channelling "interests" loud and clear;

hoisting that flag

(for slaking's staked sake)

to flaunt
the mounting
haunting the font
that
jackets
the "protection" racket,

barking
the sparking
of Darth's laden troops,

stooping for McCarthy's
looping back of snoops,

peering aslant
under foreign looking rocks
for
leaves that ripple
with questioning rings,

hounding the heels
of
Julian and Chelsea

(and America's
disowned
independence itself)

to snap at liberty's
uninformed citizenry
in
the irony of atrophy
where once there were wings,

upping trumped bids
of
inconceivable trillions
for
war machine that covets
all the most obscene things,

with nothing left over

for the commons at all;

for the humankindling children

in the fell,
quaking future
of
discrimi-bombi-nation's
precipitating
fall.

"progressives", nonetheless

reside in this thrall;

ogling the trumpeted
thumping and "scoop"ing,

supporting
hate's parroting
patriotic trooping,

Eurocentrically paling
in a conscienceless regrouping,

preaching treason's
screening
seizing of unreason,

willingly donning
the pure race unravelling
with us
or
against us shawl,

ignoring Simon's scrawl
on
a sixties unpixelled,
unresounding wall,

reasonably 
settling
for the awning
of
the stalling

hauled
underneath
the
emperor's new pall,

dependably "home"steading
the
nationhooded crowning
of
conquering gall.

even though
there's no evidence yet
that we need to be
protected
from
anything but ourselves,

and despite the
elementary observation
any trampled flower could make

that planting 800 military bases
in other nations' spaces,

noosing
Robocop's guns
with Heston's fisted fingers
on
other insecurity's
sanded banding borders,

and calling
the unbridled destruction
on our mother's other children
"foreign policy"

to "defend"
the consummate spinners
of subjectified "terror"
from
objectified "threats"

is like prosecuting
Jack the Ripper's
still breathing victims
for
attempted assault

while
the judge and jury
carve exemplary cadavers
into
stone age dust.

or
stumbling on
the gist of your texts
on an eighty year old, fading fax

in a dead letter office in Berlin.

still,
Charlie Brown's
taken aback quarterbacks

go ahead
and
stump for them anyway.

because it turns out

there's only vagaries of evil
in
the lands
domination
set free,

those
craven havens
of gangrened theme songs.

and like piracy
and
bullying coercion,

in the SuperPowers'
archly deaconed
colonial chorus
of dented consensus

(that bursts the air itself)

mass murder
has
never been
a
deal-breaker

any more
than
the figment of law's
ordering of pigments
for
corralling enforcement's
tanked up slave patrols
can be
voted out of office
or
found guilty of anything

or
the trailing veils pinned
on outrageously remunerated
bucking
Wall Street dodgers

can be
dislodged
from the path
of our pitchforks.

in fact,
notwithstanding
the narrowly contained
yet loudly allowed
distracting tiffs,
sexting stiffs,
budgetary
cliffs,

and
the dizzying ado
and
conquering divide
of social rifting riffs,

you can't choose
from the oligarch's
silvered
and slivered,
sealed
and spooned,
millionaire A
or
billionaire B
Rorschach freedom tests

and
not align with
the
pledging
of
unaccountable death
to
your neighbors.

it can't be done.

it's just not "practical"
to
get
from here
to
there.

and then

they label those
Hollywood curtained,
hopelessly certained,
patriarch starched,
bible belted,
barren brained,
snowed in idiots
the Buffoon of Oz dallies with

"Nazis"

and they do it with a straight face.

*


* la octava ventana *

America,
it would seem,
is that
refulgent bulging space

(where there ought be a place)

belligerently squinting
from nostalgia's scowling,

scolding while its prowling,
unfoldable doldrums

on those Viagra cracked
'inch equals a mile'
idealized maps

where no one understands

what intentions

actually are.

short of revolution's
dawning evolution's
discovery of democracy,

all that remains
is a
fault ridden hope

amidst the clatter
of tattered,
piped in tropes

(from the bidden middens
of riddled, myopic scope)

that exclusive intrusion's
hermetically steeled,
bipartisan reeling,
bipolar trolling,

marooning sewed-in crew

trotting out
their
bereft-left in the right-clefted-white
feel good delusions

of complacently floatin',
warcrime-votin',
presumption-gloatin',
red, blue,
or
purple-throated,
dandered slander and pander winged,
oar-less whoring heroes

(in the rampant moated keeping
of smoothed-oozed regurgitation's
bouncing Barbie
and bobble-headed Biff,
those
bespoken spoked,
profit pitched,
consciencecatcher,
ratcheting dispatchers

and the supremely vicious,
madly suspicious,
crocked and croaking
broken toy generals,

burrowing, ease sopping,
diversity stoppering assassins,

and persuasively invasive
prizling revisers
they
shuffle onto
the well worn tracks

where "opinions"
get pinioned
in
the slots
of
dotted plots)

can somehow manage
to come up with
a few
lukewarm,
next door to honest
non-lethal intentions soon

before
some small-time,
surreptitiously shod,
copycat imitation
of
the world's quintessential,
strutting and "essential",
gluttonous nutting beacon
of extremist male cults

say,

those machete twirling banshees
that crowned the founders
of the Saudi bromanced dance

(crowers over crashing planes
saved by bankered Bushes
to
fund starry-eyed sequels
of headchopper, come a cropper
bogeymandered bane)

or the Isis crisis
the Iraqi crater cradled,
Obama saddled and stabled,
and addled Trump enabled
to
betide "regime change"
genocide
on the latest other peoples'
disrespected nation

or whatever frosted frights
on budget splurging kites
the democracy spiting CIA
decides to hook up next

should get their hands
on junior partner Israel's
uninspected nukes

and incinerate America's
freedom mugging
thugs and rapists

(and their
preoccupied,
consumerized,
dread-threaded,
privilege-embedded,
resisterized,
prideful-eyed supporters,

sniffing those
"democracy"
air fresheners,

sinking in
bloodied bathwater,

squawking at the baby)

as an act
of
tender mercy

(from the earth's

unmantled,

unestranged point of view.)

* ******* **** * ******* * **** ******* *
Evan Hawthorn, the 13th of Ever2019