In a Smoke-Filled Gloom

Recently the Seattle Times reported that some public-housing agencies around here are looking at banning smoking in the units of some buildings. At first this got my Wrath up and running around, and the Downtown Emergency Services Center was about to demand ID from the visiting vein in my forehead. So Anitra “Who Needs No Last Name, As Her First Is Not Yet Used Up” fetched the customary three vats of cold water, and here we are now, calm and orderly, and able to discuss this issue in a polite and civilized manner.

I should begin by saying I don’t smoke. I haven’t for nine years. I don’t plan to resume smoking ever. I don’t have a direct personal interest in the question. If smoking were banned in all the rooms of my subsidized DESC-run apartment building tomorrow I wouldn’t give a wrinkled rat’s ass.

But there is another issue behind the immediate issue of whether smoking is banned in rooms or not. It is an issue that means a lot to me, so much that I could spit flaming wrinkled asses.

Here’s the thing. The article was all about “these public health people here sent out a survey of these residents there” and “these residents responded” and “this public housing agency here will do another survey of these other residents” and then “we’ll decide what to do about it” and WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY MEAN BY “WE,” I’ll tell you want they mean: THEY MEAN THEM.

It’s just another example of how the public housing agencies don’t defer to the rightful power of their tenants.

How about if we decide our government the way public housing decides these kinds of rules.

Let’s say in the summer of 2008 Congress commissions a survey. They select a “representative sampling” of Americans and ask them questions like these: Which statement is more true FOR YOU, 1) I like a president who listens to me, 2) I like a president who goes his own way, 3) I don’t care, either way is fine. On a scale of 1 to 5, with 5 being the most, tell how much do you agree the following statements. 1) It’s OK if a woman is president. 2) National security is really important to me. 3) Presidents should be tall.

Then let’s say a Congressional Committee made up of five or ten typical Congressional jerks, much like the jerks who sit on public housing agencies boards, gets together and wets it’s collective seven or eight neurons with the results of that survey. Then, let’s say they do a few more surveys, because they liked the first one so much, it tingled.

Finally they make a decision! Your next president is… whoever they say he or she is!

Meanwhile, let’s say you ask, where was the power of the people in all this? They then tell you that you, the people, WE’RE consulted. By surveys! They tell you they did everything they could to take your “issues” into account. They say they got all kinds of “public input” and “public feedback.” But in the end they decided.

That’s what public housing agencies do.

Would it hurt them to let the residents of each building work it out themselves? The enforcement could be the same. Management could stage the community meetings and set up the vote and enforce the result. But the difference is, the people whose lives are effected by the decision do the deciding, not patronizing jerks who live in houses in the suburbs and think they’re better than the people forced by circumstances to rent from their public housing.

Speaking of people forced into public housing, the Ten Year Plan to End Homelessness is underway and everyone’s congratulating themselves on the numbers from this year’s One Night Count. A piece of the plan is to lure homeless people into permanent housing and off the streets, to reduce the total cost of services.

It’s easier to lure people into self-determination, than into slavery.

Self-Perspect

In these times of uncertainty and stress, nothing makes us feel more stable and secure than being annoyed the same way day after day.

First there was WTO. I won’t even get started on that. Then there was the cancelled New Year’s gathering on the Seattle Center grounds.

Now they implode the King Dome two blocks from where I live and I have to stay indoors because I might be struck by flying dust motes.

All of this reminds me that I haven’t ever discussed here what StreetWrites does to justify it’s existence to me.

Oh, sure, there have been articles in the Real Change for years now about StreetWrites, our writing workshop and support group for homeless and low income writers that spawns a good deal of the poetry in these pages and more and more of the prose. But I haven’t written any of those articles, so my unique perspective hasn’t been
perspected. Let’s rectify that.

My favorite StreetWrites activity, in line with what I’ve been discussing, as regards stability and security, is the topical writing exercise. This is a practice begun by our founder, Freeman, “who needs no first name.”

Freeman, who should be called Freewoman, began by just asking the collected group to write when they met on workshop nights. They said, “What about?” So she said, “I don’t know.” And then she threw out a subject like, “What’s the meaning of life?” And they liked it. There is no explaining human nature. Each workshop I could barely contain my dread, waiting for the next announced topic.

Freeman, in workshop, Feb.29: “What are your symbols?”

Me: Symbols are very interesting, and I'm very glad you have decided to ask me about them. Everything about symbols is symbolic, and that's what makes them so great.

First let me answer the question, "What is a symbol?"

The word symbol comes from the ancient Greek, syn bolein, a verb
phrase meaning to toss together. Therefore, the mother of all symbols is the tossed salad. Other popular symbols of symbols have been the three bean salad, and more recently, the Caesar salad.

Symbols do not have to be vegetarian however. Nor do they have to be
tossed, although it helps. Take pigs, for example. Pigs are symbols.
If you toss a pig, that is a better symbol. If it flies through the
air by itself that's even better. Now imagine a whole herd of pigs
flying through the air. Now you have one fine symbol. Gosh, what are
you going to do with it?

Freeman, in workshop, March 14: “Three questions. First, what is justice?”

Me: Justice is what you have got when you got what was coming to you.

“What is social justice?”

Me: Suppose it was a bunch of people that was coming to you. That would be social justice.

“What is economic justice?”

Me: Suppose it was a bunch of money that was coming to you. That would be economic justice.

Other examples.

It might be a lot of tickling that was coming to you. Don't look now,
but here comes the tickle monster. That would be tickle justice.

Or maybe a truckload of ice cream was coming to you. If you step aside at the last minute, and they let you have the ice cream, that would be ice cream justice. If you don't step aside at the last minute, that would be truck justice.

Freeman, in workshop, March 7, “What is love?

Me: Thanks once again for asking such a wonderful thought-provoking
question!

Needless to say, some of my thoughts are getting very irritated at
being provoked all the time, and a couple of them are in the woods
right now looking for sticks to poke you with.

But all in all we love being provoked, because it reminds us that we
are still here putting up with it. Instead of making boring new
friends in a pine box. Thank you, thank you.

So we have thought of one meaning of the word "love". I love it when
you motivate me to get out more. I love it when you remind me that my true purpose in life must be something else. I love the good things that you do to me, unwittingly.

So much that I'll be back for more, next time. Ooh, Baby!

Dear Poetry Editor

Many people seem to have gotten the impression that yours truly must be the poetry editor for the Real Change. They write letters to me that begin "Dear Poetry Editor" and ask me to please see that their latest septina or paean to the changing seasons or a pantoum they wrote in college gets printed in the Real Change. They usually ending with "sincere thanks", or an equivalent.

In fact the other editors won't let me be poetry editor. For example Anitra Freeman, on whose kitchen floor I have slept, says to the idea: "Yeah, right." Similarly Stan Burriss, editor and poet who frequents these pages, has responded with: "not in this life, buddy". The only such role the editorial board has seriously considered offering to me is that of "bad writing editor", making me Keeper of the Round File, based on my demonstrated proficiency in the genre.

I was reflecting on all of this recently, oh about half an hour ago, right after I noticed that I had a column to write by the morning and the bars were all closed. It occurred to me that we all write badly at times but that not all of us are able to be truly awful on a regular basis.

Or are we? Is there, out there in the world, on the streets - you know, apart from this office - a vast untapped potential for bad writing that we weren't aware of?

After all, it's a matter of will rather than talent. Is the will there?,

This inspired the following brief unscientific quiz intended to flush out the will to write badly.

Bad Writing Quiz

1. Choose the statement that seems most accurate.

a) In order to begin writing, the tunes have to be so cranked up you can't hear yourself think.

b) You have to ply yourself with liquor (or chocolate, or whatever) first.

c) You never remember starting to write. You just wake up in a ditch in Tukwila next to a manuscript. The manuscript is in your own handwriting.

d) You have never even seen your writing. Your writing personality refuses to share his/her memories or thoughts with your normal personality.

e) Other ____.

2. You have written (check all that apply): * a love sonnet, * a sex sonnet, * an S&M sonnet, * a stalking sonnet, * a free-love sonnet (with extra lines), * all of the preceding.

3. Which best expresses your attitude toward rhyme in poetry?

a) It happens. Get over it. Get on with your life.

b) Poets who never rhyme are state enemies. They seek to rip apart the our country's social and moral fabric.

c) Poets who always rhyme lines are fascists.

d) Other ___.

4. For the purpose of this question, imagine that you belong to a writers' workshop, whether you do or not. Which would characterize your involvement?

a) You would facilitate the meetings.

b) You would dominate the meetings.

c) As soon as the meetings start you would go to the bathroom, you would go to the bathroom and not come out until it was over.

d) Other ___.

5. When you speak you find that (choose one):

a) people hear you but don't listen.

b) people want to jot down every word, to cherish your words forever.

c) people leave the room.

d) None of the above. You don't notice what other people do.

e) All of the above.

Quick and easy scoring: If you answered "other" or "all of the above" in almost every case, you not only are capable of writing badly all the time, but you probably would prefer to, and all you need is to find somebody to print your stuff. Good luck!

Prolonged painful agonizing scoring: mail your answers to me, Dr. Wes Browning, at 2129 2nd Ave. Seattle, WA, 98121, , and, down the road, when I can't think of anything else to write about, I may evaluate your quiz in excruciating depth and print my conclusions. So be sure to include your full legal name, address, phone number and hope I don't use it.

Duck!

"In a world of Labrador Retrievers, I am a duck!!

(OHHH YES!! OH YYESSS!! A DUCK, I AM, a DUCK, oooooooh yesss!)

When everyone else blows (be-lowws! YEAH! Ha -Ha -Ha!), I suck!!

(Suckity - suckity - SUCKITY -- SUCK! - YEAH)

A single ROtini in a plate of LINguini --

Or a lonely LINguini in a plate of ROtini --

(RotiNIni, TahiniNIni, RotininiNIni -- teehee - knee)

What the hell is I am is what I am?

is what by any other name

is --

(! - extraneous bang!)

-- is I couldn't ever -- possibly --

-- or could I? -- feel so lame.

Phththbbbbtt!!"

-- that was just one of the several fragments of writing found among Dr. Wes Browning's personal effects yesterday, as police collected evidence in the hopes of clearing up the month's long mystery of the missing homeless satirist and would-be poet.

Dr. Browning was a frequent contributor to the Real Change Homeless Newspaper of Seattle, "making a difference in people's lives right now, please leave your message at the beep, and someone will answer your call as soon as possible... "

Dr. Wes Browning, AKA "Copyright Dr. Wes Browning", was best known for his monthly feature entitled "Adventures in Poetry", which pretended to amuse Seattle readers with its supposedly subtle blend of political and poetical humor. He received his doctorate from, of all places, Cornell University, in 1979, for Mathematics. He received his "Copyright" from the StreetLife Gallery, 1994, where he had the audacious gall to make fun of another homeless artist, since deceased, for using the "copyright" symbol far too much.

But Mr. Browning had always laughed out loud at that sort of death, that is to say, the usual sort, the sort that doesn't repeat on you, the sort that doesn't come back and race you around the ping-pong table all night long. In fact, Mr. Browning has laughed at just about everything and everybody. Maybe it's best that we're rid of him. Who needs people like that anyway, always making fun of everybody, never taking anyone seriously! What a creep! Thank God he's missing!

As Anitra Freeman, fellow editor, and oft-time benefactor of Mr. Browning puts it, "He did a wonderful lap-dance. He had a very talented nose. I am not going to tell you what all he could do with his nose. What a probiscus! I'm going to miss his nose. Maybe, just maybe, I'll miss the lap-dances. But definitely his nose."

Think about it. Guys who write poems. Guys who lap-dance. Guys with prodigious noses. Do we need them? I say no. What do you the public say?

"What the hell is I am is what I am?

is what by any other name

is --

(! - extraneous bang!)

-- is I couldn't ever -- possibly --

-- or could I? -- feel so lame.

Phththbbbbtt!!"

Ahhh, ok, I am not in reality a duck. Sheesh.