M.A.G.A.

These four letters
I have a bone to pick with these four letters
An itch that I must scratch, a conversation I must have
A transgression I cannot simply condone
For I am not in a zone, I am not in a place
I am not in a club that allows me to make these four letters my own
I have tried to understand why, and I figure maybe its
Members Are Getting Atonement

(You see what I did there?)

This subject has given me much to ponder
Much to think on for days as I let a mind like mine wander
I mean, the idea that greatness is returning
Is most disconserting
It implies that greatness was present and then left
Or it was stolen, or it was squandered
When did this occur, exactly?
Maybe A General Assertion will help clear things up

And you may say this is ridiculous and monotonous, since
Making Acronyms Gets Annoying
But the struggle is continuous
And the amount of Material Attained, Gathered, Arranged
And presented for this purpose is generous
For we must come to terms, all of us types of individuals
Either interracial, impartial, or indigenous

Mentally Aware Generations Agree
That this issue that presents us is not with any them, but with we
We as a whole must open our eyes to see
Even if what we see is that
Maybe Anarchy Generates Apathy
And the current catastrophe is exactly what follows
Calamity and dastardly disaster rapidly

Yeah, I got a bone to pick with these four letters
I have an axe to grind
Picture Me, A Grinded Axe, and these four letters
As I fight the urge to sit back and cuss
As I try to discuss the feeling of disgust
Which has been thrust upon all of us
In a way that may in time
Require that Maps And Globes Adjust

Our country just brought to power one of the type of men
Who blends division and conquering with favors for friends
And has established a quick habit to condescend, with
Meaningless Apologies, Ghastly Agendas

And Making Aggression Gradually Acceptable
While playing innocent in the end
A man for whom it was a challenge
To find Musicians Actually Giving Acceptance
At his inauguration
A man who,
Although he may suspend the idea, let's not pretend

That we didn't just inaugurate someone who just might
Mandate A Genocide Accidentally

This is someone that has spent his last two months
Meeting And Greeting Assistants
To those that will help dispel the resistance
Of insistence that those who move up in this way
Be held accountable in this or in any instance
Of campaign trail promises that now risk a hint of inconsistent litmus when
Meanwhile, Accountability Grow Ambiguous
As we bear witness

And plenty out there have been
Moping, Adamantly Grieving Autumn
Others are just nodding and smiling
Going along with the program being rolled out
Merrily Agreeing, Gaining Amnesty
Or so they think, and so they plan
We can sit here and
Make A Great Amount of excuses
Look for cause and effect of the useless
Find a seed to plant from the fruitless
Or perhaps we can even give this new route a try
Make A Genuine Attempt to ignore
The previewed, viewed, and reviewed abuses
Getting you to feel like you need a drink of gin and juices
Until you find yourself
Meeting Alcoholics, Generally Anonymously
Just to reduce it

We've paved the way to go backwards
If you can believe that
A friendly place for all of the righteous
Moderately Anti-Gay Activists
In favor of
Making Angry Generals Ambassadors
That support
Manly Alpha-Guy Armies
That make a priority of
Marking And Grabbing Aliens

Making All Guns Available
And
Making Abortions Generally Antiquated

All coming from a man
That seems to think that things like
The Affordable Care Act, environmental protections
Immigration of Muslims, trans-Pacific trade
And a committed relationship in NATO
Could all be looked back upon one day as
Many Already Gone Anecdotes

I've also seen neophyte zealots from the far right
With eyes lighting up bright when they see signs of
The kind of sights that
Make Aryans Gain Appetite

But lest we forget how many of us have come together

In ways that cannot simply become undone in this country

For the simple fact that we have

Melted And Gelled Anyways
All of us here, together, steadily ready
Different walks of life, different minds
Different skin tones, and different sports teams to cheer for
All of us out here

Medics, Advertisers, Gardeners, Accountants
Meat-packers, Architects, Garbagemen, Archaeologists
Michiganders, Arizonians, Georgians, Alaskans
Those of us that used to be
Mexicans, Angolans, Germans, Australians
Macedonians, Armenians, Ghanaians, Azerbaijanis
Those of us that are still
Muslims, Agnostics, Generalists, Atheists
Even the less excusable of us
Misogynists, Assholes, Gold-diggers, And people that just don't even care anymore
That aren't even reading this because nothing changes with these 4 letters
These four words
These four years...

But here we are
Maintaining A Giant Assimilation
Of other ideas, philosophies, and ways of life
And this one gets in, just as right
This is us, all of us
Mixing And Getting Along
Being who we are when we are us, which usually results in
Making All Get-togethers Awkward
We will get through this
Even if we have to look at the next 4 years as
Missing A Government Already

But what I still can't get past are these 4 letters
Lined up like some creed of pride
Claiming to bridge gaps, when perhaps
All it ever did was divide
Because at the end of the day
The thing I fear that you neglect to say
Is Make America Great Again means
My America Goes Away

Freeze

Just. Stop right now.

Please. Just stop everything.

The volume needs to come down, needs to bleed

At exceedingly increasing speed towards its needs

(Wait, scratch that, I meant knees)

Better yet, it needs to freeze

So just freeze

Freeze out the general hum

The hum of the humdrum and the scum and the dumb-dumbs

The ones that bumble and fumble and stumble so humble as they tumble

Inwards, outwards and under the tundra like thunder, blunder after blunder

It’s no wonder that there always remains some other out there

Uncovered, unsmothered, unlov...ered

Scratch that last one

Freeze it out

Freeze out the rush

The undercurrent mush that will not, cannot, shall not just… just shush

The engines in cars, the battery bars,

The cellular, elevator, tele-refrigerator

Energizer enervator relegater

The constant ticking or clicking

That won’t stop picking and keeps on sticking

By the prickling and texting of your thumbs

Everything noisy and vexing, this way comes

And now it’s going out

Freeze it out

Freeze out the walkers and squawkers and knock-knocks,

Cock blockers, beat boxers, punk rockers

All out now

The jockers and boxers and the head-blocks (or something like that) alike

The ones with mop tops or the goldie locks, none of whom know how to stop the

Talk-ta-talk-talk-ta-talk

Per tutte le parole, for all the words, para toda las palabras

Non si dice nulla, nothing is said, no se dice nada

They say nothing and mean even less

The vixens, the fix ems, politicians, smitten and slitherin’

They all stay hidden

Their words stay unwritten, stay fixed on the heads of the pens

Before the ink ever spreads itself thin

But their blabber gets in

Let them never begin

House-leavers and couch-weavers and mouth breathers

Ugh, the mouth breathers!

I mean for god sake, blow your fucking nose!

But that’s not where I wanted to go, so...

Freeze out the silly little gimmicks and limericks and outer inner bits

Among all of the fringes and limits

The frames in space and time within this mind

That tick-tick-tick even when the clock will not wind

The simple sides of the climb that no one else could possibly find

So they stay confined as mine

The intricate plots and photo shops of over-the shoulder shots

The who’s-got-what-from-whiches and witches and switches from each slot

All stored neatly in one spot

The notes and quotes from each boat across each moat that hope to float

The faces in shapes and sizes and spaces

That drapes and rises and chases

All through the escapes and demises and disgraces

All through our scrapes and surprises and faces...

...wait…

What am I even doing right now?

I’m making more noise to describe the noise that I’m trying to escape

Ok, screw it, screw everything I just put down on the plate

I need to escape the… well, I guess the escape

Just let it take flight

And let it have weight

And let it be free

Just let it freeze

And I’ll pay the fee, but let me be free

And let me be me

Just stop everything in one, two,

Two and a half

And three quarters

And three

...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

I can feel it like a shiver

Like it will almost ring

As the the sound gets drowned out and found out

And not a word of mouth can sing

Not a soul can now bring me back to down from this mountain top

To which I am now the king

No longer an heir, now up in the clear, up into the air where

I

Can’t

Hear

A

Thing

The mouths are moving, but the waves never reach

Like enemies at the gate that never quite breach

They crash and claw at me

But no sand moves from this beach

No puedo oír nada.

The phone rings and no one reaches

No clicks and pings, no dial tone increases

No whispering, no gossiping, no snitching, no speeches

I feel the weight melt away as the pressure releases

Non posso sentire una cosa.

It’s almost like it’s deafening, the weight of not knowing what’s at stake

Not feeling what it takes to be the great break in this muted state

I’m feeling at peace, and I’m feeling awake

It’s like from up here, I don’t just hear things differently, I know them differently

I don’t just hear the peace and quiet, but I feel at peace in quiet

I don’t just hear the faint wind around, I rise and fall with it

I don’t just hear myself breathing, I know that I’m breathing

All in a way that I never knew that I never knew

And never dreamed I'd wanted to

So please

Please just keep it all away today

Just let it freeze

I’ll pay the fee, but let me be free

And let me be me

Driving Them Nikes

Luxury is relative.

I know I could start with something more general, like acknowledge that I haven't posted anything in a few months or talk about stuff I've been doing. But...meh.

Luxury is relative.

Take this phone I used to have. I think it was a Nokia. It got terrible reception, it had a really annoying tone when it rang, and the buttons didn't consistently work on it after the first year. I remember it didn't always turn off when I wanted it to, so I got it taken in class a few times. And the battery was screwed in, so it wasn't like I could just pull the battery pod out like you could with some of the older phones. It was a crappy phone, but it was my first phone and I was in middle school and really didn't even need a phone, so it was awesome. It was the early 2000's, so kids really didn't need phones in the first place, and I figured out at one point I could program my own ringtones, so I actually had a lot of fun doing that. The phone was not great, but it was far and above what I actually needed, so it was luxury to me.Now, that same phone today would be an abomination. It would be archaic to what phones can do now. I would constantly be complaining about it, and showing people how thick it was and pretending to try to give it away so I could get a new one. But, honestly, it would still probably be just fine as a phone. It would still make calls, it would still text, it would...no, that's about it. It would do the things that a cell phone is actually supposed to do, before we decided everyone needed to walk around with super computers in their back pockets. I think it was capable of taking pictures, but not sending them effectively, so yeah, calls and texts.

So having a phone was cool. Having a crappy phone kept things in perspective. If I just didn't have a phone, I doubt I would have really known the difference, but since I know the difference, I do my best to see the positives. It was a luxury, just like it pretty much is today, but I don't think I could ever just go back to not having a smart phone at all times. Do you think you could just go back? I don't. I don't even know for sure who's still reading this, but I know you're probably never cutting social media back out of your life now. It's not a phase, it's not something you're just trying out. This is who you are now, so get past it.

Generally speaking, I think most people take luxury in their life for granted. It’s human nature, whatever you have you end up expecting to be there, rather than being thankful that it’s there. And literally everybody is guilty of it in one way or another. I don’t care who you are. The rich kid that expects his breakfast to be ready for him every morning on a tray. The young business woman who cannot function without her cup of coffee. The old man that reads the newspaper every morning, no matter what. The little things are automatic. And for that matter, so are the big ones. The prisoner who expects to get fed every day in prison. I mean, what if one day, they just decided, “Dude, screw you, you robbed a bank. You don’t get food this week. Deal with it.” Or the homeless guy who suddenly is not even allowed to drink water from the public water fountain.

I mean, they had their water tainted in Flint, Michigan last year. And it took way longer than it should have to even get attention on it, and then again, I’m not positive that the problem has been fully dealt with even now. Of course, this is a tragedy and will probably have long reaching consequences, but at the same time, it seems unreal. It seems like the exact kind of thing that could not happen anymore in a country like ours, because someone would stop it or it would get enough attention that surely they would fix it right away. And yet, I’m positive that the minute I stopped seeing news stories about Flint, it was an assumption made in my mind (that I later corrected) that this problem was solved and I didn’t need to worry about it, and that it could never happen to me where I live. We take things like this for granted too, and they're the things that allow us to survive. What if someone really decided that you were not entitled to living, just ‘cause? Just walked up to you and took your means for continuing life and thought nothing of it? It would make you realize a whole host of things that really don't mean a damn thing, wouldn't it? And a few of you may even feel tempted to make a Facebook or snapchat post as your last act on this planet just to let people know how upset you were about it. At least a twitter update with some emoticons, because who doesn't love emoticons, right? Ughhh.

I know I’ve gotten materialistic to a degree. I don’t need my phone to have all the apps and shit on it that it does, but I do NEED my phone. What if I need to know what temperature it is in Tokyo? What if the Packers trade someone and no one near me tells me right away? Am I supposed to just wait until the news? What if I lose track of how many steps I took in a given week? Not that I ever cared about my steps before, but if I inexplicably need to review my activity, how else will I be able to answer the questions that matter? What will I do?

Or my car. There’s a great example. My car is a 2002 Ford Taurus, a shitload of miles on it (that’s the actual reading on the odometer) not great underneath the hood but decent enough that I get by, but guess what, I need that damn car. I mean, what if I’m somewhere that I don’t want to be? What if I can’t drive away from the place I don’t like? That sounds awful. I'm glad I have a car. I can control the climate in it, I can use my stereo to drown out the noises that occur outside of my car. Having a car is a good thing. And you know what, I've had worse cars than my current car that make my current car seem like even more of a luxury than it already is.

My first car was a 1989 Toyota Corolla. It’s color was piece-of-shit white. Washing it never helped. It never actually passed inspection at the car garage I had it registered at, but the guy just felt sorry for me that THIS was how much my parents valued my transportation. The parking brake didn’t stop anything, just made a really annoying sound that made me stop to see what was the matter, what I possibly could have done to make the car yell out in such pain. We took it to a mechanic once to see what it would cost to get it updated, and the guy said he couldn't from a moral standpoint. He said there was so much wrong with it, he didn't want to take our money for any one thing and that paying all of it wouldn't be worth it for a car that sucked that much.

The mechanic actually offered to drive it out back and put it down like Old Yeller for us. He said he’d do it for free.

Thing is, for the last year of high school, it was pretty much exactly what I needed it to be. It got me to and from school and track practice, eventually. It was decent on gas, considering at times there was about as much motor oil burning as gasoline. Even though the driver side rear-view mirror always fell out, it was conspicuous enough that other drivers just kind of got the hell out of the way, on instinct. I never got a speeding ticket because I couldn’t speed. The car topped out at a majestic 44 mph, during which the car sputtered like it was maxing out on bench press. Once I left the keys in it for a whole weekend by accident. I’m pretty sure someone stole it and then brought it back. There was more gas in it on Monday.

But when I would complain about it, my track coach put it in great perspective. He said, “You know what I drove when I was in high school? I drove these Nike’s.”

Well played, Coach Harris. Well played.

The Corolla was not even the shitiest car I ever had either. It was beaten out years later by a Lincoln Towncar that lasted around a month, but that’s another story.

Eh, screw it, I’ll tell you now.

And it’s not really even a story. I wanted a car around age 25 because I was sick of walking everywhere. And I found a shitty car that I thought was bad. Like bad meaning good. Bad like Michael Jackson meant it. This Lincoln Towncar had a V8 in it. It had all original Lincoln tires and rims. It also had the front and back seats torn up, the check engine light literally always was on (probably not by accident) the windshield had a crack in it just low enough that it was legal to drive, and the steering wheel was beat up. This car was a death machine, I was sure it would end up killing me. It just so happened that the first month of having it, I didn’t try to drive it anywhere besides home and work, which was right down the street, or around town in small trips like the grocery store or a concert or two. Also, the radio was busted and the speakers were blown out. So I couldn’t even enjoy riding in this car while I was unsure if I was going to survive. But I had not had a car for several years and wanted to be able to get back and forth around the city if I had things going on and didn’t want to wait for the bus to pick me up.

Anyway, finally, I tried to get it out on the highway to see my girlfriend that lived a few hours away, and it took me about 25 miles out of town before dying for good. The radiator was leaking the whole time and finally blew at the distance where no one could just come and pick me up. Axel, a friend of mine (at least we'll call him Axel here) finally got out there about 2 hours later, after I had been towed to a nearby exit from where I said I was with no reception. It was just perfect. Not to mention my girlfriend was relentless in how I never should have purchased the fucking car in the first place. And being stranded far from home (or should I say far enough from home) puts a lot of things in perspective. One of which is the concept of how much we really do have to change our perception when we think of crappy ways to get around. The crappiest, after all, is the way that doesn't actually get you anywhere.I mean, the car straight up failed at the task it needed to accomplish. If I had tried to ride a bike or hitchhike or even just straight up walk there, I would have gotten there faster. It would have taken a long ass time, but I would have gotten there, as opposed to just not ever reaching there with ol’ Wilbur. Yep, I named the Lincoln Wilbur.

So my thinking in all of this, I didn’t need the nicest car for what I was doing at any given point. I actually think it was better to have a car that I could just kind of run into the ground. The Corolla had set expectations low enough that I knew not to do anything stupid with it in the first place, it didn’t even pretend to be capable of traveling to a distant city. And obviously, when I got a new car, I wanted to have it better than the car that I had been used to that was sufficient for high school. The point is, there’s nothing wrong with taking steps forward, as long as you appreciate those steps forward. One of the best ways to appreciate what you’re given is to start out with something humble and have to aspire and yearn for better.

And always remember: No matter what you're driving, there's someone watching you drive it while all they can do is keep driving them Nikes.