Sunday poetry

Spring Reign

Thank you whoever tuned the radio
to rain, thank you who spilled
the strong-willed wine for not
being me so I’m not to blame. I’m glad

I’m not that broken tree although
it looks sublime. And glad I’m not
taking a test and running out of time.
What’s a tetrahedron anyway? What’s

the sublime, 3,483 divided by 9,
the tenth amendment, the ferryman’s name
on the River Styx? We’re all missing
more and more tricks, losing our grips,

guilty of crimes we didn’t commit.
The horse rears and races then moves no more,
the sports coupe grinds to a stop, beginning
a new life as rot, beaten to shit, Whitman

grass stain, consciousness swamp gas,
the bones and brain, protoplasm and liver,
ground down like stones in a river. Or does
the heart’s cinder wash up as delta froth

out of which hops frog spawn, dog song,
the next rhyming grind, next kid literati?
Maybe the world’s just a bubble, all
philosophy ants in a muddle,

an engine inside an elk’s skull on a pole.
Maybe an angel’s long overdue and we’re
all in trouble. Meanwhile thanks whoever
for the dial turned to green downpour, thanks

for feathery conniptions at the seashore
and moth-minded, match-flash breath.
Thank you for whatever’s left.

~ Dean Young

Lovely Luxembourg

Photo by Christina McChesney

Frankie Valli - Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Basie's Birthplace Not All Bad

I intended to write a less-than-flattering post about New Jersey.

It had been near the bottom of my “States I Want to Visit Again” list for years – ever since I learned that it’s the car theft capital of the world, the largest chemical producing state in the nation and the setting for “Jersey Shore,” one of the most putrid shows ever to appear on television.

Governor Chris Christie

Additionally, its obese Republican governor, Chris Christie, gives me the willies. Christie endorsed Robotron Romney last October, vetoed a bill a few weeks ago that would have legalized same sex marriage in New Jersey, and sings from the same hymnal as other Republican politicians, advocating less taxes for millionaires but more on poor families. (He cut his state’s earned income tax credit – as did Michigan – and slashed programs for women and seniors.)

The latest tidbit that was motivating me to trash Jersey was the news that gift card companies are leaving it because a new law lets the state claim the value of unredeemed cards after just two years. The companies say it’s too difficult to comply with changes in the state’s unclaimed property law requiring gift card sellers to obtain ZIP codes from buyers so the state can claim the value of unused cards. (Without this information, the value of unused cards would revert to the companies or the state in which the company is incorporated.)

According to the Associated Press, state officials saw unused gift cards, travelers' checks and money orders as potential new revenue sources, projecting $79 million for the last fiscal year. But retailers sued last year so most of the potential income has yet to be seized. A federal judge temporarily suspended the collection of ZIP codes but lifted the injunction. The case is pending.

The Cast of "Jersey Shore"

(In my state, unclaimed property like gift card balances, tax refunds and safety deposit boxes revert back to the state – it’s called “escheat” - and we passed legislation to snag this unclaimed property sooner in order to generate $208 million for fiscal year 2012. But New Jersey’s apparently the only state trying to collect personal data at the point of purchase in order to help collect unused gift card balances.)

I’m not keen on protecting the profits of corporations like American Express – one of three companies that have threatened to abandon Jersey so far – but I object to the state requiring consumers to divulge personal information so it can grab money to balance budgets that reward the rich and punish the poor.

So I was just about to write a nasty post about the Garden State when I was reminded that Kim Kervan Casey – one of the coolest and most compelling individuals I’ve ever known – hails from there. (I wrote about Kim and her family last August; click here to read “I Miss the Caseys.”) I decided to find out who else had or has ties to Jersey and came up with the following names, among others:

• Bud Abbott and Lou Costello

• Jason Alexander (George Costanza from “Seinfeld”)

• Count Basie

• Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora

• Zach Braff (Dr. Dorian from “Scrubs”)

• Danny DeVito

• Richard Florida, author of The Rise of the Creative Class

• Longtime Massachusetts Congressman Barney Frank

• Poet Allen Ginsberg

• Actor Ed Harris (Pollock, A Beautiful Mind, The Truman Show, Stepmom, Sweet Dreams)

• Singer/songwriter Lauryn Hill

• Whitney Houston

• Brian Keith (Uncle Bill from “Family Affair”)

• Actor Nathan Lane

• Cartoonist Charles Addams

• Queen Latifah

• Author Fran Lebowitz

• Funnymen Jerry Lewis and Joe Piscopo

• Dionne Warwick

• Actor Ray Liotta (Goodfellas, Smokin’ Aces, Unlawful Entry)

• Actress Bebe Neuwirth (Dr. Lilith Sternin, Frasier’s wife, on “Cheers”)

• Shaquille O'Neal

• Astronaut Buzz Aldrin

• Magician David Copperfield

• Donald Fletcher Holmes (inventor of polyurethane)

• Author Norman Mailer

• Jack Frikkin' Nicholson

• Joe Pesci (Goodfellas, Raging Bull, My Cousin Vinny)

• Chairman of the Board Frank Sinatra

• Actor/director Kevin Smith (Clerks, Chasing Amy, Zach and Miri Make a Porno)

• Bruce “The Boss” Springsteen

• Meryl Streep

• Sarah “Sassy” Vaughan

I realized that it wouldn’t be right to trash a state that has given us so many amazing, cool, great folks. Plus I visited the Jersey shore once – my family visited Wildwood – and didn’t encounter a single person named Snooki, The Situation, Pauly D or JWoww.

Maybe I’ll trash Arizona instead.

Sources: Associated Press, 50states.com, MyDollarPlan.com, CreditCards.com, Washington Post, NJ.com.

Hoodies and Skittles

The Sunday Drivers - Dancing Queen

Sunday poetry

ABBA

for Brad Gooch

We snort all our coke
on the way to the party.
We bring the new album.
We dance while we listen.

The band is two women
whose husbands control them.
They do not speak our language.
Each syllable’s an obstacle.

They are in love with a man.
He is in love with another.
But they’re in no hurry.
They could wait forever.

And when they are out
on the make for a lover,
they’ll always find him.
They are the tigers.

We are stoned too stoned to.
We dance till we’re tired
and listen to lyrics
we mouth like a language.

What we feel, when we
hear them, is inexpressible.
We can’t put into words.
Maybe our dances show it.

ABBA lives for their music.
We long for each other.
They see what we’re doing.
They put it on record.

They play it, we listen.
We are absolutely stunned.
We feel, and they know
more than anyone can say.

~ Dennis Cooper