Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Dewey & LeBoeuf, once one of the largest, most “important” law firms in the filed for bankruptcy last night. Simply put, it was insolvent. While the firm had some of the so-called “top” attorneys in the naton, I wonder about the issue of “character.”

Did any partners even consider reducing their compensation? More than 100 received in excess of $5 million annually, frequently charging $1,000 an hour.

Think about it.

I also read today that “Consumer Confidence” plummeted last month. These statistics, in my view, no longer have to compiled: The economy can assessed at any time these days anecdotally: Just look at the increase in traffic and sales at 99 Cent stores and the like.

Again, I’m prompted to wonder what’s right with the world.

Thursday, May 24, 2012


I touched
A nerve within me,
Dredged it forth,
Hoised it
To a fat clabber of clouds,
My cipher of light
Upon the world’s shoulder,

& women mulled me,
Open & closed,
Moist as a well,
My planet flared into water,
Flood-tide orbits,

But the rat’s tooth bit me,
Money made a fist about me,
Envy made a fist within me.
I sorrowed in my spine
For all the old truths.

I have relinquished
Everything in my life
Save memory
& the stiff conjure
Of a few dreams:

My finest self
In a coxscomb sun
Spawning a make-shift hydrogen.

My wish now?
To be startled into sleep,
Desiring nothing,
Not death – certainly.
Desring only my being
As intractable as waves
Riding the surface,
Surging to the world’s end.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012


Be not amazed by beauty flashing,
By skeletal hands soothing a fever,
The arthritic fingers of weavers
Of tapestries. Lovers, curled together
Before the marriage vow is fashioned,
Are not amazed. The splendid whip
Of the moon is theirs, & their
Many imperfections are digested in air
That feeds them. Still, the most clever

Of musicians is driven to despair
When his oneness is not demolished
By a simple song. Lovers who wished
That they be one are wrenched apart
With brutal frankness, but dare
Not say how single & solitary
They become. Their separate cells
Flash upon their minds & swell
To music, until they stand astonished

& betrayed. Cleopatra knew it; chills
Slithered up & down her Grecian spine
Whenever she dare to puzzle on how fine
Her body was; or more recently, Marilyn
The actress, knew it, yet swallowed pills
To ease her pain. Beauty is not its own
Undoing; we undo it. By refusing to see
Its oneness, we undo it. Be
Not amazed by lovely flashings, by signs

Of fish or stars above the faintly
Damning praise of planets, by slanted
Light that arches into prayer. Hunted
By artists & lovers, momentary grandeur
Never dynamites the mind, but silently
Unnerves the world. Seasons are murdered
In the snowy wind, waterfalls run
Into clouds & collapse while we look on.
We love only what we take for granted.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012



Medusa’s head was not so grand,
The ivy did not stare, sand
Went about its business, the land
Refused to foam under the wand
Of her permanent wave. Medusa’s hand
Clawed the air, & her teeth spanned
Europe, yet she did not understand
Why her love was stone. She had planned

To lie in bed, her snakes fanned
About her ears, awaiting her tanned
Ordinary lovers with their fiery brand
Of kisses, but her mortal eye unmanned
them all. Night after night, she scanned
The dark for lovers & trying to command
Their affection, she’d undo the strand
Of silk about her waist, the narrow band

That held her heart, but when her demand
For love remained unanswered & the land
Brimmed quiet, she drew her wicked hand
Over herself. The curse that banned
All human touch was more than she could stand,
But the ivy did not stare, & the sand
went about its business.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

About Refugee From Reason

Well, this blog has been up for five years or so. I've used to to publish new poems, comment on current events and society, rant at various issues, political and otherwise and for a time discuss my life with a drunk: My ex-wife.

I've a lot of questions about that via email; about my personal life and about what I do for a living and who I am.

It's time, I suppose, that I get all of that out of the way, as frankly, I'm tired of answering the questions, the most asked of which is "Why did you get married to that woman [the drunk]?"

Hell, I'm not at all sure, though she seemed quite intelligent, talented and witty at the time I met her and had been a clothing designer. Despite the fact that she could outdrink me (I don't drink much as it is) didn't mean anything to me at the time: I had been a reporter and knew a lot of my colleagues who drank [especially on the road covering campaigns], but the word "alcoholic" never came into my mind.

It wasn't until after we were married that I "got it." She was not a pretty or fun drunk, but rather a mean one, who frequently tried to attack me. Three times I called the police and three times they called the EMTs who took her away, once putting her in a mental institution and twice in the hospital.

We're divorced now and I rarely hear from her. There was quite a bit on this blog about my drunk [ex-] wife, but I've taken down. It's fallen into the "Who Cares" basket.

First ex-wife: As I've frequently told people who asked about that divorce, "She gave up the kids, they were 6 and 3 at the time, voluntarily. She got alimony, I got sole custody." That should tell you all you need to know. Suffice it to say that it was probably the best thing that's ever happened to me; being a single parent of my kids (now grown and on their own). They're my closest friends, along with my dog.

My second ex-wife was quite nice actually…until she became "spiritual." She was very intelligent, and a mathematician who became a systems analyst at a major government agency. "Spiritual's" fine with me, until you start spending a $1,000-$2,000 a month on "channels" and "healers," with your life revolving around burning sage, speaking in what sounded like tongues and paying those "healers" for "healing" over the telephone, not only for herself, but her cat. It ended rather amicably.

These days I live in an apartment. I've never wanted to live anywhere else but an apartment, though I've owned several houses in West Los Angeles, Las Vegas and in Washington, DC. I never wanted to, as no matter where I live, I am a dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker. It was always wives who wanted a house.

Houses: I fine them a pain in the neck. They're costly and rarely does one ever "burn the mortgage," as Spencer Tracey and Katherine Hepburn did in "Adam's Rib." Beyond that, either you have to call someone to fix things, then pay for it; or do it yourself.
I like neither. I prefer to "call the super." Besides, when you live in a house, you accumulate "stuff," and I highly recommend going to YouTube or elsewhere to see/hear George Carlin's riff on "Stuff." I live quite nicely. The apartment's a good size, less than ten years old and very comfortable, with all the appropriate amenities.

My life is a good one. I don't "date" much, as it's clear that in this area my selection process, so to speak, isn't especially good. I've no problem pointing out that I enjoy television, almost anything but reality shows and probably most non-fiction.

So, what's my life like today. It's relatively solitary, save having to deal with clients - I fix things for companies in trouble; I resolve crises. I do regularly visit my kids who are on both coasts.

I think that's about enough for now and should answer most of the questions I've been asked. You can always ask more via email, refugeefromreason @ refugeefromreason.com (you'll have cut and paste that one: too much spam out there).

Friday, May 4, 2012

My Best Friend

Yes, he is, indeed, my best friend. We spend every day together; we go for walks, we're both getting a bit older and we understand one another.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Chairs, Simply Chairs

Today is going to be a great day (my expectations for even "good" days are relatively low and I only classify as "bad," "good" and "great").

My new deskchair is scheduled for delivery today. It was only $60, delivered from a chain office store:

A new chair may not seem to be a notion for celebration or glee, but since I moved into the apartment two months ago, I've been using a folding chair:

I am so looking forward to delivery, as is my back. Now, my new chair isn't all that great, at that price, but it's apparently serveable and relatively comfortable, according to the reviews on the site, though there were couple that noted that the seat is a bit hard. A pillow solves that...and the price, all important these days, was certainly okay (it included tax).

Interestly, I checked Craig's List first and made two inquiries to which I received no responses. I've put things up for sale there a number of time and always responded. I found it a bit odd that my queries weren't answered, but perhaps those items were sold and the seller never took down the ad.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012


Well, I almost got through the day without a harsh word from my wife. In my office there was a sound from the bedroom (the master in which I sleep). I said, “What?,” in a normal voice (I was working at the moment). Her retort: “Why are you yelling at me?” Perhaps it was my tone, but my wife perceives everything that’s a question relating to her or something she said as “yelling.”