You Can No Longer Teach Poetry to Students

So the dudes at work are horny, what's the big deal?

Their level of intellect declines with each sexual thought they experience as it confounds their ability to see you as a legitimate professor if they even pretended to initially.

When another writer at Pitzer College became a writer he watered down Hemingway, Hawthorne, and Faulkner, then basted the compound with a constant exposure to his temptations with the coworkers.  Some seem harder to reach than others, so I take my pick by my strong hand.

The dude was aghast that I had read Hunger, takes a double take when realizing he knows less than you do about what he shouldn't even be talking about to begin with. Their stupor with your mastery they can't mask at all.

You shoot them two looks with a stern frown, a mocking ironic half-smile, and a gynormous rolling of your pupils as you shake your head, "no, hell no."  Since "no" is not going his way, he decides he will put on the pressure and persistently bother you despite having contrived a way to check from various perches around the college campus, where high visibility for vultures busily I go about the other duties that I carry.

Certain necessities remain for literature to be produced and these aren't destined to be negated where writing matures and where it advances beyond its threshold.

I stand in the light of the open door. Just past his shoulder, there's a bit of sky that might begin to pour in if not for the obstruction of a large nose, bald head, and eagle posture...ready to descend as though on talons of misused novels, memoirs, poetry was on the chopping block next.

It was not a recurring dream. Dreams at least you may rest when they are occurring.  But these are the quotidian flashes of upsurging shock that's absorbed for humanity to become apprised why there makes no formidable enemy who speaks once and speaks twice yet nothing communicates.

If I am mute and without restitution, there are many lengths to travel so far, there are many lengths to travel so far.

Silence more Difficult than Language

Censorship is painful.  It feels like clutch at your back and squeeze your sides.


You are frozen and you find you've become mute and motionless.

A memory has just passed through you triggered by some association aural or emotional.

There is a world outside. There is a world inside.

You can now hear with two different ears, the inner and the outer..

Someone may speak to you, but you hear only their sighs.

You forgot the reason you were having the conversation at all.

There are portions of an F.B.I. file that will be glomerated, removed from visibility
with large black brushstrokes.

Just as there are passages of my memory that contain a blanch mark that denotes
that each is a possible eruption, set-back, and return to trauma under similar stimuli.

Censorship burns what it comes into contact with.

Ignormance Whistlaster : Evil's Purpose is to Defeat Itself

Indian, you're dead thereofre you dn't think

you are no philosopher : I humped your paycheck

I loiter about succumbing to lusts

I am the Sell out the Prostitute's wink


I want for Money and Sadism

No friend of mine is a Poetaster 

--"Keep it to the Metaphorical Zone Sir"

Of course you love me of course you  you Must


Consent is only for my Masters

The ladies are none to kind Neither NOT

The bullshit is thinkwastecan detritus

Ogles and Ogles of Ogling crackers


I don't mean their Race but their Substances

Sniff, Snort, and Howling in the Ignormance

Sex Abuse Matters: How Feminism #Failed Anzaldua

The last thing a feminist wants to discuss is sex harassment.

She will avoid the sex harassment victim like the plague.

She will rage at the injustice of her inability to execute sexual discrimination from the position of a perpetrator and suggest that sexual violence is deserved.

She will lust for the power of others when they exhibit such power in the sexual subjugation of women.

Feminism has been equivalent to a quest for power by the power-hungry powerless, a series of illogical assumptions lead to feminism: indifference toward pain is the first followed by calculated treachery against the meek.

Feminism creates a false comfort in being a woman and does nothing to protect the safety of being a woman; even when it is inconvenient to be unjust, a feminist will pioneer the advantageous mistreatment of another woman to claim her ticket at the buffet table trough.

I once heard a border feminist state that it was unkind to give work to Gloria Anzaldua (because it would distract her from her poverty.)

If a military is cruel, feminism is crueler.

The most unkind feminist is the feminist of color.  She rests all of her power on the ability to quote and half-plaigarize dissidents, artists, and persecuted individuals.

When feminists have the option to choose between ideology and liberation she will always choose the former.

Feminists restrict free speech and defy the principles of freedom of expression.

If I must be a woman I will never be a feminist for it would be a contradiction in terms.

Feminism is Fucked

Love is a Student Love is a Teacher

It's been a while since I posted due to the school massacre in CN and the holidays.

About the former I will say that what shocks most is the lack of a human scale in our everyday lives.

I am a teacher and know what it means to be forced to place your life in the hands of the opponents or the threats to your students even temporarily.

The difficult and deliberate work of peace drives the meanings of love to restoration and expression, in the minds of my students and in my own.

I made peace with myself by witnessing a movement that spearheaded itself against many of its odds (most of which was made worse by their advocates).

I know what it is to worsen the situation of someone I think I am advocating for.

I know what it is to err with good intentions and later recognize the fallacy.

It isn't easy to say to someone 10-20 years younger, "I stand corrected."

It is even more impotant to tell the same person, "my errors were paid at your expense and your sacrifice was made harder by my own false authority on such things."

Every day life gets harder.

Everyday I get stronger.

What type of mathematics can account for the mistakes, the laws, and the behaviors of love?

Love not education is the great equalizer of society.

But what is love?

There are many things love is pride, love is self-love, love is merciful.

What love can do no law can mandate yet it persecutes.

The inverse of the law is love brought to mercy.

Love is both a noun and a verb.

Love is a teacher.

Gender as Inequality

The reason sexual intimidation works is because it’s a protected right of the employer to base labor on the indemnification it holds in its regulation of gender as a basis for power  –an ideology  of male supremacy superimposed over domestic affairs which are those of the educational sector. Learning is far more frequently a metaphor for sexual aggression, domination, or sublimation whether by militarism, economy, or cultural attitudes.  Each one of these modes is as persuasive a unit of social relation (marriage) as can be regimented in the development of the fallacious category of “woman” and that of “man.”

            Gender is a racial class as much as it is a sexual one, yet the reverse is professed, that gender is more universal and class more specific. Vertices of public ascriptions consist of the language or even the architecture of social divisions premised on inequality not simply when effected as such.  Being a woman for me means being able to experience, endure, and enumerate the quality of inequity in the way that being a woman is a multiplicitous condition which is economic as well as categorical. Privations ensure my enclosure in a status of a predestination. I actively disavow. I refuse to submit to my inequality as an assertion of truth. As it cannot be untrue I am unequal than it is erroneous to believe I am.

            I establish as I construct my method of thinking, that none can authenticate what I say who is not me. I write to you, reader, not to convince you I am credible but to assure you that I am not. I am negligibly false where it concerns the imposition of my gender. I am a woman, and I am not a woman.