Monday, June 23, 2008

slogging through the Void without a road-map

Today’s poem is from 11:93 ooolalal .... a prose poem .... haven't used this format much lately, but still like it.

Some updates … got my “packet” from Vanguard … it’ll be like going through the Encyclopedia Britannica, and while the amount is hardly enough to actual retire upon, I do need to get it reinvested - so dear old Uncle Sam doesn’t take it all in taxes, though I am certain he feels more entitled to it than I should. After all, I just gave blood, sweat and years for it. Anyway, working a bunch more overtime it appears, so I won’t be getting the forms filled out and returned before the middle of July it appears. I think I officially have until sometime in August.

And while the company (and union) promised meetings and clarification on all sorts of things, I have yet to see any of these posted. So it’s slogging through the Void without a road-map, as usual. Oh well, things progress and all the chatter is about life after Day 1, so all we can do is assume IP actually plans to run the mill, for a while at least. We shall see ….

Now onto the poetry ----


the Rolling Stones, 30 years later still moaning for Mona upon a vinyl dream no longer in print. & you upon Goat Mt. pondering the universality of buffalo grass & rats. (rats, i tells you, are angels watching the world go down the tubes.)

clouds over rancid skies in search of thermal inversions, updrafts, clouds wander as if visions waiting for mountains to crash into - wonderful thunder & the flap of wings. & you gather on Goat Mt. take it all in - as if by osmosis.

Monday, June 16, 2008

roll over, fido, you mill-worker

Today’s poem is from March 1993.

No real new information, except that everyone under 55 will be terminated the day the sale becomes official. (Aug. 4 in theory). Everyone over 55 (hey, that’s me) will be “retired”. (i am being told we then become IP employees, but so far, no one has officially stated that.) What that means is my pension needs to be taken within 90 days, either requesting an “annuity” or a lump sum (to be rolled over). oh, the paper work is just short of gargantuan. But today I began the journey. Actually, the people at Vanguard were very helpful, thus far. Next week I get to talk to a financial advisor as to specifics and terms of the roll over.

Other news? Summer is finally starting to appear. The long (and wet) spring is about over. Actually If it weren’t for the work fiasco, I would have enjoyed the spring being wet and all. Now all I need is my foot to quit aching. 12 hours (8 straight days) on that wonderful concrete floor are starting to take a toll I think. And more overtime on the horizon. So much for streamlining the work force a few years ago!! Oh well, such is life for an old paper-mill worker. Now back to the poetry. I think that’s the reason for this blog.


the river still smells where blackbirds dance in the thickets & carp dance in the reeds.
the same old river that dumps a grey ooze into turbidity current of the cold bay no one loves forever.
my soul on the edge of the wind
obsidian rock from the belly of the sea
angry knuckles that scrape the sky
her hands sails before sunset

but it is the river - stench of sugar beets & tires burning - before which i stood.
manzanita housing skylarks - & rats
the wind whispering of turbulence
temptation the very taste of her lips
succulent grapes upon vines tangled in scrub oak, where jays curse the very smell of life
perfumes that intoxicate
imaginations that refuse to forget

Friday, June 6, 2008

waiting around for DAY 1

today's poem is from 10:93.

really no word on the great DAY 1, coming around Aug. 4th. some things remain completely mysterious - such as if we actually have jobs waiting (but it has been implied we will - but nothing official has been said). a few things, nothing really significant, have been clarified - our insurance will not change until Jan. 1 (when that will be "renegotiated"), our years of service only will count towards vacation and job position seniority.


rain. i tells you. falls. no umbrellas as we watch.

i sees cracks in america. profound
theologians blames everybody but jesus
who was seen -NOT- with his finger
in the hole of another failing dike.

i tells you. the sick are not always
hospitalized. & the damned aint always
in obvious pain. ha! the eagle laughs
with one eye. no snakes in his pockets.
hungry little children watching empty skies.
no manna today, dudes - but tomorrow ...
another story, i tells it well -
same old shit in the same old underwear.