Dear America,

You can refuse to vote for an anti-gay marriage amendment; you can vote based on a belief that marriage doesn't need any protection, it simply needs people to fall in love and participate in it. You can vote against instantiating exclusionary practices and bigoted beliefs in your state constitutions. You can stand up and say "My gay daughter" or "My gay son" deserves the same rights and privileges my other children enjoy.

You can do all these wonderful things and more--you can work to show your neighbors and colleagues, your friends that policies based on fear and animosity, policies that serve to divide and exclude, policies that allow people to stare down their noses at other people are not policies worth our country. You can do all these things and I will applaud. I will thank each and every one of you for your support, for your belief that my life is no less valuable than any other person's life.

But, I will also be sad. I will be sad because the ballot might as well have said, "Is Amy good enough to join our country club?" And you get to vote about it. You get to vote about whether I am good enough to be counted, good enough to enjoy the promise of America.

Perhaps I shouldn't be sad. America has, in some ways, always functioned like an exclusive club with certain people free to come and go as they please and others relegated to entering/exiting through the back door: members enjoying, exploiting, benefitting from the labors of the non-members. America though is not and never has been simply a country club. Despite the separate entrances, despite the inequalities, despite the injustice of it all, always at the core stood these words:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

These are the promises: Justice, Tranquility, Common Defence, General Welfare, Liberty. America has never been perfect at keeping those promises, far from perfect, but some of We the People never shied from working towards fulfilling those promises. Since the beginning, We the People fought, marched, boycotted, litigated, sat-in, voted. We the People pushed back the us/them divide, pulled ever-larger the citizen circle.

We the People refused to simply be a country club. We decided that slavery was wrong, we decided that women should get to vote, we decided that segregation was unequal, we decided the We the People included/should include All the People. (Paradoxically enough, it seems, self-evident truths are apparently not color- and gender-blind.) We the People decided that differences, unknowns mattered less than the promises to "ourselves and our posterity." We stood and proclaimed "We the Citizens of this United States welcome you."

Sadly, though, we've begun to retreat. We've returned to the country club model, begun to erect a fence around our freedoms, an exclusive list left at the gate with armed guards. We've taken to sending more and more (instead of less and less) people around back. They get paid; oddly enough they even pay their dues (taxes), but they need not make reservations for dinner; they're not allowed.

We act as if Justice is a non-renewable resource, that if we treat everyone Justly, none will be left for lunch tomorrow. That the General Welfare need not include the general populace. That the Common Defence is color-coded. That Tranquility wears a price tag. That Liberty should be quarantined lest someone take it.

Dear America, Dear America, when Freedom isn't free, it dies. When America isn't free, when we retreat from our promises and Our Promise because we fear and because we hate, when we turn our backs on our progress, when we refuse to go farther, when we shrink the citizen circle smaller and smaller, America dies. The oxygen, the food, the life-sustaining elements of America are its promises: Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

Dear America, let us be a Country again. Let us break bread together. Let us become that more perfect union. Let us decide that we will not bow to our base instincts. Let us no longer fear sharing America's promise.

Pressing News

Also posted at CNY Alive.


I have been preoccupied for a bit publishing 2 books. The first was the long awaited Monday Night Poetry Anthology called Coevolution -funded in part by a grant from the DeFrancisco Arts & Cultural Grants administered by the Cultural Resources Council. (It can be purchased for $10 at Monday Night Poetry or at Follett's Orange Bookstore in the Marshall Square Mall.) We received our 200 poems from a whole bunch of poets living near and far. Here's me Name Dropping: Rick Lupert, Mary McLaughlin Slechta, Jane Cassady, Thaddeus Rutkowski, Paloma A. Capanna, Therése Halscheid, Daniel J. McGinn, Omanii Abdullah-Grace, Martin Walls, Gregg Yeti--and that ain't even the half of it. (All the folks I didn't link to are very Google-able.) I was and am totally blown away. Special thanks to Rachel Schlesselman for all her editing help.

The second is a collection of poems by Jane Cassady called An Awkward Kind of Faith . (It can also be purchased at Monday Night Poetry or Follett's Orange Bookstore in the Marshall Square Mall for $5.) This is my review:

"From the completely (un)biased editor of Turtle Ink Press: Sometimes the reward for having done the homework is the knowledge that water’s moving under snow, sometimes that instant evaporation is a possibility, sometimes knowledge sits somewhere between. Jane juxtaposes these bits of knowledge, wrestles with their implications, wrings them out, dips her pen into the drippin’s and writes into the morning. She proves that there are no still life's, no still lives: cities make us hot and sticky; history reminds we all have damn spots; the quest is worth passing on the bucket. Pay attention, Jane says, pay attention. Indeed, we should."

I certainly lead a beautiful life.

Pressing Matters of Leadership

The US Congress has really stepped up in the past couple of months, letting the American people know just what it believes to be important. In addition to such pressing matters as flag burning (that’s nipping the epidemic in the bud) and gay marriage (flower shops, groom & bridal shops, caterers will be so relieved to be free of such economic burdens, not to mention state licensing fees that won’t get collected now) and taxing the pimps (pimps only thought they had it tough), I thought I would begin a list for consideration. (I hope to email a list of suggestions sometime next week. So, if you have some suggestions, let me know.)


Other Business the Congress Should Be Tackling in this Election Year:

1. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop.

2. Standardization of the location of tofu in grocery stores.

3. Pass tough, new, penalties for spitting one’s chewing gum onto the sidewalk.

4. Renaming food items to reflect the patriotism of the governing body.

5. Mandating that napkins be included in all drive-thru orders.

6. Standardize the measurement of umbrellas.

7. Settle the tomato—vegetable or fruit?—controversy once and for all.

8. Pass Constitutional Amendment regarding the pronunciation of "nuclear"—let’s clear this one up, right now.

9. Who’s the best at Tetris.

10. Where do those missing socks go?


Of course, some of these are more pressing than others; I don’t expect Congress to address them all. Some of these concerns have been with us our entire lives—who hasn’t lost a sock in the dryer or stepped on a piece of gum—and life has continued quite nicely; therefore, Congress might well pass some of these items along to future leaders without too much worry. Yet, others.... The pronunciation of "Nuclear" for instance. Does our distinguished leader speak of the same thing I do, when our pronunciations are so subtly different? How about those food items that still possess names that are, if I may, less than homegrown? And, tofu! By golly, the anarchy must stop! When I go into a store, I should not be subject to the whims of the grocery gods.

Craziness, Slam and Austin in August

So, I haven't written (it seems) in a thousand years, but I have been designing like crazy. Tonight (Monday, August 17) at the Coffee Pavilion, I will be guest hosting Monday Night Poetry. We're doing a fundraiser to benefit the the Ithaca Slam Team that is headed to the National Slam Poetry competition in Austin, TX (in August, no less).
What does this have to do with anything? Well, we will be conducting a Silent Auction for three 11x17 Broadsides--one poem for three of the four team members--all designed by me. We will also have some smaller copies available for sale. Also, the poets will have chapbooks for sale. (This is my first attempt at Broadside designing, so all you folks out there go easy on me. But, all of this is not about me.)
It is about the Ithaca Slam Team and making sure they eat as they are representing CNY to the rest of the country--travelling is expensive these days. Their first bout pits them against the team from Bar13 in NYC--how's that for representing?
So ALL of you come on out and show some love for these poets (including Monday Night Poetry's Jane Cassady). (PS--Not to get ahead of anything, but there are rumors that Syracuse might find itself home to a Card-Carrying SlamMistress who is thinking about fielding a home-town team. These are only rumors, mind you, but if you want a local slam (to watch and/or perform in) be at the Coffee Pavilion TONIGHT (133 East Water St.)

Little Drops of Syracuse

Saturday

Ah, June in Syracuse. Sunny. Perhaps a few clouds. Warm.

Or Not. We are standing in Columbus Circle and the temperature flashes between 50 degrees and 49 degrees as the rain falls on and off. "We have Pride, yes we do. We have PRIDE. How about you?"

And then there are the 6 protestors. Ah, protestors. Can't live with them, can't .... They certainly are an interesting group. I believe that this year a couple of them may have actually bathed and put on clean shirts. In case you missed them, I believe at least a couple of them can be seen every now and then on Marshall Street just down from SU hollering and wailing and preaching and generally being pretty surly. They certainly are a grouchy bunch. By the way, yelling at the kids, totally UNacceptable.

Anyway, here all us parade-goers are being all festive. Jane and I have our yearly kiss-fest in front of the protestors (next year all of you are going to participate), the giant Rainbow Flag is waved and waved and waved, the floats, the banners, the strollers, the beads. Special thanks to the parader with glitter - protestor A must have had fun washing all that out. And Radical Cheerleaders, you were certainly missed . (By the way, next year I am making cookies.) So, excellent parade all around--bigger than last year.

Then, we head over to the festival by the Everson with lots of music and mingling. We sign a couple of petitions and join some email lists and drank some energy drinks. We also join the rubberband bracelet movement for a couple of hours.

An outstanding day!

Rows of tiny objects

I think the title of this entry was the theme for Friday night, though I must admit that not all the objects were tiny and not all of them were in rows.

Sometimes, if I'm lucky, when I'm at an art show I want to break the rules and touch a painting. I had this feeling a couple of times this weekend. First, on Friday, Jane and I attended the opening of The Syracuse Salon de Refuse (put together by the Visual Arts Committee of the Cultural Resources Council) at the Syracuse Technology Garden. My fingers itched to just reach over and touch one of the bare tree branches in Margaret Olney-McBride's painting "Shore Reflected." I didn't but I did look at it from quite a few different angles. Also, noteworthy in this exhibit were Donal and Shel Little's print "Felix Anas/Lucky Duck," Jacqueline Adamo's "Market Place" (Jane says think Munter) and an unknown person's (no placard) painting with blue blobs. All these works were in rows, except for "The Chips of Time" by Angelo Puccia, wrapped around a column. (Does the phone work? Was it part of the piece? I am very tempted to find out.)

After the exhibit we went to the Little Gem Diner for some exceptional plates of food and cups of coffee. Jane thinks it was the first time she had been there during daylight hours. Heading back downtown, we stopped at Sound Garden to pick up some Artic Monkeys and peruse the cds. Here is where the theme of the evening became especially apparent. Several cd covers had rows of tiny objects pictured on them. At some point in the near future I will go back and find those cds. Also drawing attention, the vintage t-shirt--on the side of which were technical drawings of a moth with text about behavior, some of it crossed out. Brilliant.

Finally, the evening ended in a movie theatre, art and intrigue in front of us and yapping girls behind us (you paid $8 for a ticket apiece, why aren't you watching the movie?). Yes, the Da Vinci Code. Can I just say Paris we're coming. Ian McKellen is simply brilliant, portraying the grail scholar willing to resort to almost any means to achieve his end. I wished for a little more with the mystery, a little more with cameras lingering on the art and the tombs. But, all in all, a decent flick.

So, here are my recommends for an artful, tiny objects in a row evening:

Salon des Refuse at Syracuse Technology Garden

Little Gem Diner

Sound Garden

The Da Vinci Code