Absolute Blindness

Your absolute blindness dumbfounds me America
Blind to the idiocy
Of eight years in chains
Will you allow eight more?

Blind to the poverty
Blind to the slavery
Blind to your heroes
You want more

Blind to hypocrisy
Of leaders and banks
Blind to the ingrates
Empowered by zealots and whores

Your absolute blindness is killing me America
With your plastics and chips
And your cities of gold
Your blindness brings nothing but war

System of Man

My reflections on all this Wall Street grief--in song, as usual....

System of Man

It was a lightning connection
It was a surefire thing
It was a blue chip stock
I threw my hat in the ring

I had the car with the toys
I had my GPS on
Still I got lost on Broadway
And it was totaled before long

Just like everything,
Just like everything,
It came crashing down
There’s no use hanging around
It all just slipped through my hand
Another system of man

I was a big name on Wall Street
I was the one in the know
I took my winnings to Vegas
And we were rolling in snow

And then the big markets tumbled
My stock was not worth a dime
If I could just get it back
All this investment of time

Just like everything,
Just like everything,
It came crashing down
There’s no use hanging around
It all just slipped through my hand
Another system of man

I had enough to retire
I had my wealth in the bank
I had my days all planned out
I had accountants to thank

Well they had run every test
My health was golden they said
Until I felt some explosions
In my heart and my head

Just like everything,
Just like everything,
It came crashing down
There’s no use hanging around
It all just slipped through my hand
Another system of man

Just like everything,
Just like everything,
It came crashing down
There’s no use hanging around
It all just slipped through my hand
Another system of man

The World According to Angela

My 4-year old daughter Angela’s ineffable sagacity sometimes manifests itself in the most unpredictable ways…..The other day we got into a discussion about why things always fall down to the ground, and I was explaining to her about how a force called gravity makes EVERYTHING fall; I demonstrated: the crayons, the coloring book, the stuffed animal, even the leaves.

I should mention here that Angela is in the infamous independent, rebellious, you-say-black-I’ll-find-a-way-to-say-white stage. So she looked around and pointed out that the sun and the moon and the stars don’t fall down. I had a tough time explaining that….

We got a bird feeder on our front porch the other day, and lately she’s been marveling at the hummingbirds. They don’t fall down either, she observes. You can bet that when human beings figure out a way to fly, Angela will be among the first to flap her wings….

And God Said.....

Hedge funds
Junk bonds
Buyouts, bailouts, mergers
Subprime lending
Capital gains
Bull market, bear market
Liquidity, liquidity

Federal reserve and speculation
Adjustable rate estate tax
No points at closing
All of this way over your head
And over Mine
Come talk to Me when you need
Water

On the Precipice

Surely there are answers to this child’s questions
Too stark and cold for the innocent mind
But I do not know either why
God brings us into such joy and wonder
Only to diminish it year after year

Taking your azure blues and fire-truck reds
Turning them into smog and stop signs
Real fires taking desperate lives, burning down your dreams
I would like to stay here forever with you on this impossible precipice
But you too must join in this dance of illusion and sorrow

4 AM

At 4:00 a.m.
The computer sleeps
The neon dies
News shows loop
The freeway stills
The city snores
As darkness reigns
Moon cools all
But I am on fire
Awake and thinking
Of you

Pharmaceuticals

Side effects are rare:
If you develop a tingling sensation
Frequent headaches
An erection lasting more than eight hours
Blurred vision
Impaired reason
Loss of appetite, sudden weight gain
Increased appetite, sudden weight loss
Dry mouth, dizziness, or shortness of breath
Mild stroke or premature death
Consult your doctor

Body Farm

Today reading the grisly and sensational details of the Caylee Anthony saga, I learned that a DNA match was found for the little girl by investigators at the Body Farm right around the corner from me here at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.

While Memphis has Elvis, Nashville has the Grand Ole Opry, and Chattanooga has the renowned Choo-Choo, Knoxville, a town replete with ghost legend and lore, has the labs where they made the bomb that blew up Hiroshima in nearby Oak Ridge—and the Body Farm. This latter place is as grisly a claim to fame as one could ever imagine. Basically, cadavers arrive here from all over the country when the ways and means of the checkout have proven to be elusive. The scientists and their scalpels then have a field day upon the dead bodies, in hopes of providing the missing tidbit of evidence that will exonerate someone or have them locked away for life.

I couldn’t help deriving sick black humor out of this and have penned the following lyric, possible words for a future country song that might be produced in the sunnier part of the state, about this ominous corner of the UT campus—

Body Farm

I’m going to the Body Farm
They’re going to find out how I died
They’ll get to the heart of it
Who fired, who fell, who lied

I’m going to the Body Farm
Down in Knoxville, Tennessee
They won’t rest until they know
Who got the best of me

I was once a young buck
On the Reagan gravy train
Till they came here with their microchips
And scrambled up my brain

I’m going to the Body Farm
Down in Knoxville, Tennessee
They won’t rest until they know
Who got the best of me

I’m going to the Body Farm
When it’s over, I’ll be clean
They sort me out from head to toe
And every neuron in between

I’m going to the Body Farm
Down in Knoxville, Tennessee
They won’t rest until they know
Who got the best of me

I’m going to the Body Farm
Down in Knoxville, Tennessee
They won’t rest until they know
Who got the best of me