If I thought my poetry ever be accepted by a big small deal I’dv’d foldered all abandoned haikus but don’t don’t but do but don’t not concession to lack of academic scaffolding laugh I know I type arrhythmic cadence as I talk This criticism and pride I forget what saying get to what new thing I say talking past new thing cause old already me voice mail whisperer lords I serve voice mail listener too re: PD hear myself talk each time I need listen, delete delete delete years since anyone talked to me. Monkeypox, huh

1. Can’t stop thinking about dinner Saturday night past and my interaction with my not-blood sister-in-law a poster child for upperest middle-class privileged Democrat
2. – I wrote that part Wednesday morning I’m typing now Wednesday night – when I typed in the morning I didn’t think about N-B S-I-L weirdass mention of Madelyn Albright as a personal hero in our conversations, her smacked expression when I called Albright the war criminal she is and now (by grace of Blessed Serendipity) was (for this poem’s sake) (worth it)
3. I said as a peace offering, you cannot be a United States Secretary of State and not be a war criminal, but that didn’t help
4. I saw Albright on campus within the past two months, and the loyalty she inspired in her colleagues and students tells you all you need to know about the curriculum of this Shitlord World Domination Wargame Training Facility, wait til you meet the grad students and faculty of government, business, and economics
5. I did not say anything when N-B S-I-L (I do have a blood sister-in-law, she’s nice, she and L make each other laugh) tried to Hillary-bait me, I was busy not biting on brother-in-laws baiting me with Steve Miller Band songs
6. Hilltop killed its mask mandate, don’t think it’s related to Madelyn Albright’s death, just asking, I wear my mask for people who want me to wear my mask as well as me
7. half Hilltop happily unmasked, seeing the lower half of a face I’ve seen half hidden for two year I think fuck
8. Do I look like an almost but not me to you too? do you forget my name for a second when you see my mouth for the first time in two years?
9. This is true, the copy-pasting magic of wordpress over, new bloggerfart, what? deffjump is taken?

My let’s stay in touch with all past workers except Alexa now on them next
Let me make it on me please. I could be their dad, played one at work
My daughter’s birthday today, she moved away too
The minute you don’t work there you never worked there ever
An app called Classmates badgers me my 45th GHS reunion
approaching rapidly, see who’s RSVPeed
I’d not recognize the names of most, not greet the names I know
I choose not to give them $29.95 to see if I’m right

Nothing to say doesn’t stop me from saying something
Just because I say it out loud doesn’t mean I have to say it to you, here I am
Nothing to say is telling you something that you already know, nod
Everyone agrees we’re being reprogrammed I don’t tell you three times anymore

How many times do you think you’ve pissed in your life?
I will be 62 in six weeks do the math that’s 22,630 days
4 into 62 add 15.5 days for leap years = 22,645.5 days
x how many times you pissed a day on average
factoring age, medical history, especially UTIs
plumbing and sump pump problems, weight fluctuations
everything you’ve forgot not just the last time you pissed

My problem acknowledging
Shitlords censoring crackers to incite crackers
yes to incite crackers but more incite me?
Works, visa versa of course, fractionally Shittier Chow when necessary!
The valence of -.06% less-shittiyism

For the oofed time tonight I remind myself not to explain, here’s
why How many times now? I don’t keep count

Josie’s father
Part Three = Coggling Machine
Chells bime
That Klara programmed to Kind
itself programmed to sacrifice for owner
Klara programmed to believe all parental motives honorable
Klara talks of its fellow Artificial Friends for sale and misses their staring out the window at customers and both adjusting their head tilts and facial expressions to best sell themselves as artificial, what works best
One of Ishiguro’s always themes parenting and lack thereof, orphans, always orphans
Klara thinks Josie runs on Sun
The story line of Klara’s sacrifice is strained, as is its success, as is the book’s
My bells chime, this machine naif puppeted by handlers with different motives it was programmed to believe all without question
I’ve part five of five tomorrow. I bet Klara ends up in the used artificial friend lot (typed Monday)
Rick the only other character in novel through part four not tainted with motive, so far nothing but Kind
That at certain times Klara cannot control its vision suggests someone is directing it to see what the someone wants or more importantly doesn’t want Klara to see
When the mother gave Klara a test-run as Josie
Why is the housekeeper named Melania who speaks with a central European Slav accent?
When the mother accused Rick of being happy he hadn’t been lifted while one of her daughters dead from lifting, the other now near death
Me and objects, the ones – rocks, watches, Dogduck – I believe in some small empathic connection
Contrast and compare how the Mother treats Melania and Klara
Manager, Klara, Mother, Housekeeper, Rick, Rick’s mother, Rick’s mother’s ex-lover, Klara’s father, puppeteer
So Father goes along with Klara’s plan to disable Pollution in deal with sun who would save Josie (the father listens to the machine say I can’t tell you but help *me* save your daughter and he’s like, Ok I will, but let me short-circuit this machine to save my daughter) in order to disable Josie so the puppeteer can’t create a Klara as Josie, the reason Mother bought Klara
Manager noticed Klara’s exceptional talents as an observer and info-processor than others of the same model Artificial Friend from the same assembly line and tells Klara when Manager sees Klara in… I was almost right, was worse than I thought
Rick and Josie split up after Josie recovers, she goes to Lifted University, he starts a career building spy surveillance drones
Klara would have died to save Josie, programmed into a machine parents buy their lonely mid-teen children: sacrifice
Enough for now. I re-plensished my plastic animals, Happy Tree Knot
A watch I had for fifteen years, the strap broke but I was fatter my knees bad year I bought a self-surveillance tracker I lost weight I lost soul
I could still buy a new strap but don’t but

Simplenote haiku
virgin, I cannot highlight
my penetration

must moan sans serif,
squint though bottom one-seventh
progressive lens

to see font, Jeff chill
I never read what I write
At least I can tag