POET BASKETBALL 2009: TEAM SF! TEAM K-SWISS!

Now is the part where I start shit-talking the East Bay Poet Basketball team.

Eh...too easy.

See you Saturday, SUCKAS!!!

I have a lot to say

but instead I'm going to share with you these poems written by students in the after-school program where I work as a program leader. I hope they encourage you all to STEP UP YOUR GAME. These kids are coming up and they're probably going to be doctors and CEO's too. If you are interested in a copy of their forthcoming literary journal, Ulloa-Po!, please let me know right away as I am making copies tomorrow.

THE EXTREME HORSE (2nd Grade)

H is for high, because they jump so high.
O is for observing, because they watch their prey.
R is for running, because they love to play on the field.
S is for super strength, because they are very strong.
E is for extraordinary, because they are awesome in all ways.


What is gold? (3rd Grade)

Gold is gold in the breeze with people’s sneezes.
A tree I see with golden eggs.
I get gold when something is sold.
I see London I see France I see my golden underpants.


This is Just to Say (5th Grade)

I kicked Indy Jones in the crotch with a kick
which could shatter bones, while Batman
changed back into Bruce Wayne. Forgive me,
but I saw through your disguise and crushed
your head between my thighs.

*(unfortunately this poem did not make it into the literary journal as it was deemed too violent.)


Red (4th Grade)

Red remind me of
blood and the fire will
kill you and the sun will
burn your skin, Fire-cracker will
blow your head off the
sky, the eraser will erase
your body, The feather will
made your blood blow
up and you will be dead
and the ball will kick
your head off and everybody
think your head is a chicken
with ketchup.

* (ditto)

More later

So far,

-I am textbook

but

-Poem for BB
-Poem for AW
-Spicer (Thanks, Brent)
-Max
-Kid paintings at Anna's Market on Hayes St. between Octavia and Gough
My favorite: a red donkey on a kelly green background with the caption,
"I'm in a Green world! I hope that doesn't mean vegetables."
-Morgan
-Pink roses: baby powder Yellow roses: delicious something Red roses: wine White roses: too delicate to say
-Kid poems
-Wu Tang (Thanks, Jen and Michael)
-Trying to think about everyone
-Mama email, "...I am 'blessed' with an unlimited supply of MOSS! Love, Mom"
-Staying on the level, uneasy with the up and up trend but easing up and gearing up to engage
-Much too pretty and don't know where to put it

Personal Update

I am now an assistant editor at The Post-Apollo Press. Look out for me!

Snail Update

1) Full recognition of and copping-to fact of preceding post's cute/trite/annoying quotient.

2) HHH and Stepon are now slurping around in a suitable fish bowl.

3) Snails are dull creatures but they deserve to live. They are one of God's creatures, as Morgan says. Now they are one of my creatures. Next stop, lizards (crap).

Snails

I appropriated two snails today from two small children. The first child was thinking of naming his "Step On". He was also thinking of chucking it. Children hate holding anything in their hands for long periods of time. I decided to take on this first snail as my charge. The second child found the second snail on the floor and wanted to step on it. I put it in the tiny plastic dish with the first snail. Later the first snail attached itself to the second snail or visa versa.

When asked what I should name the snails the second child recommended I name one Triple H after the professional wrestler. I liked the idea of naming the snail HHH and introducing it to people as Hhhhhhhuh (the sound of exhaustion or a dorky exhalation). This child also recommended I name the snail pair The McManns, after a family of professional wrestlers. A third child recommended Lucky or Lucky Jr. and I felt that these last two options were a bit trite but tried to disguise this fact.

Still later, I carried my dish of snails in a car, on a train, on a bus and on foot uphill and felt very grown up that I had managed to do this without chucking them or stepping on them because really, I don't like holding anything in my hands for long periods of time either. The fact that I can and will shows that I am truly grown up. The fact that my snails HHH and Stepon are still sitting in their plastic dish on my kitchen counter with nowhere else to go, since I don't know what snails eat or even whether they should be in salt or fresh water shows that more than anything I wanted to take the snails away from those children to momentarily reinforce their very intentional and constructed vision of me as a responsible and trustworthy adult, when I probably know less about caring for snails than they do. The only one-up I have on them is my ability to do things that I don't like doing.

In any case, I will be taking name recommendations but I think at least Stepon may stick. Maybe Stepon needs a last name. Mallarmé? No.

From My Notebook: This Weekend

"City Hall is right down the street from your house if you want to go get married."

Schwartz, Morgan, Me

"Hey, Honeybubble"

"Shit, blood..." "Shitblood"

Collaborative Poem composed at Zeitgeist in the sun
by Micah Ballard, Brandon Brown and Lindsey Boldt

homey has Rembrandt eyes
come to me brother
peep this
and this is what's happening
come on, man
don't hate, peep recognize game
Coletti, Brown, really bad cell phones
who are these people
encrypted orders
giving me LOVE
it must be
Lindsey, Coletti, "it's Brandon Brown!!"
we're out in the day-time!
it's awesome, but I have no idea what yer saying
Micah's dick = she's pretty
but she ain't fine as you
I AM IN LOVE WITH A STRIPPER
I'm vulnerable
Yeah, I know.
excuse me, I'm gonna go in this port-a-potty
I'm in a plastic container of shit
"What is that face?"
invulnerable means, less suspicion
HIGH VOICES
fussing about the terrace
shut your face
I was courting her, in the sense of wanting to
give her a scholarship
Word to your mom, it is so fucking on

For Mama Boldt

Good Morning Sunshine
If it was a snake it woulda bit ya
If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all
If you mess it up you clean it up
Everything seems better after a good night's sleep
You can go without sleep and you can go without food but you can't go without both
Sticks and stones can break your bones but words will never hurt you
I'll worry whatever you do - it is what mothers do whatever their daughters do

disengaged but copping to
there's world out there
there's some
eat it
put it in
roll it
look it updown
make quick a heart
and thrum (?)
till bursting and backoff
but stay
please stay

Genius

One-a-day drawings for the month of May by Maxwell Heller

This Song Kind of Rips

Cuckoo - The Monks