Continuing the expeditions of Jeff MacNelly, James Kilpatrick, and Eugene McCarthy, with apologies.

The Stubborn Base

The Stubborn Base is an infectious, multi-entity organism that harnesses its throngs of moving parts for the converse purpose of denying movement. It is often grouped in boisterous regional colonies that seem desirable to otherwise unindoctrinated outsiders looking for a place to belong. Perceived desirability is the ruse by which the SB spreads its contagion – for it is often predation, not accommodation, that guides this organism’s behavior. Once the colony peaks the interest of its prey, the SB then momentarily distracts it by offering the illusion of fealty in great numbers. It then unleashes its pestilence. Neophytes and second-tier candidates are seduced by overtures in chorus from the SB, only to find out later, sadly, that the organism is tone deaf. Alas, by then it is too late; the SB has already infected the unsuspecting victim, depriving it of any capacity for original thought. Moreover, the contagion leaves any associated campaign paralyzed by outdated dogmas, polarizing rhetoric, and web-like infra-alliances that weigh down, slow, and eventually halt any vital momentum.

The SB can take many forms, but may sometimes be identified by blocky growths on the feet of its sub-entity members, the presence of wall-like physical and rhetorical structures around the colony, and the tacky habit of members wearing similar headgear.

-Danny Grosso

Continuing the expeditions of Jeff MacNelly, James Kilpatrick, and Eugene McCarthy, with apologies.

The Unindicted Co-conspirator

Outside of its shadowy normal habitat, the Unindicted Co-conspirator may resemble many other denizens of the marshy District of Columbia.  However, the UC is rather easily distinguishable from its neighbors in that, out of evolutionary necessity, it has developed a third eye. Swiveling around on the back of its head, the tertiary oculus allows the UC to be alert for the impending danger it always senses, especially from its traditional enemies, the Previously Undisclosed Witness, the Surprise Courtroom Testimony, and of course, the Special Counsel.

The Unindicted Co-conspirator prefers the protection of shadows in dark corners of Capitol buildings, where it can wait out its life span as that span comes to be determined by judicial proceedings or statutes of limitation. However, sometimes a UC is forced by circumstances of its own position to hide in plain sight – attending committee or cabinet meetings, or making grandiose speeches out on the hustings, all in broad daylight, where it dons the camouflage of its societal rank and makes like a regular VIP. Under these conditions, if combined with with a strategic comb-over to disguise its distinguishing feature, a UC is hard for the layman to spot. Yet, there are reliable, identifying traits that transcend costumery. Look for a paranoiac, defensive posture on social media, a hyper-anxiety regarding breaking news TV banners, and an open and obvious avoidance of any contact with a related species – Indicted Co-conspirators, (IC’s).

 

-Danny Grosso

 

 

My heel flashes in the

dark side of twilight but

I imagine myself

invisible tonight.

The call of the wolf and

a trick of the light will

lead me to running

the alleys tonight.

It’s a scent in the air and

a thing in my blood that

leads me over the levee in

a runaway flood.

The art of my darkness can

deepen the swell in

a country where no one

cares if you’re well.

My first failure and

my last goodbye

set me adrift with

compass awry.

The misty moonlight in

the month of May when

the missiles of Moscow

were pointing this way.

Don’t forget how far we’ve come

just the same it’s time to go

why labor to find the sum

when the last war

may have just begun.

Your face is the

quietest blue in the night and

you’re pretending that

all we are saying is right

this dream approaches the

shores of delight

until you begin to

fade from my sight.

My first failure and

my last goodbye

set me adrift with

compass awry.

The misty moonlight in

the month of May when

the missiles of Moscow

were pointing this way.

-Danny Grosso 

Instagram @artispolitics

Buy books! My Amazon author’s page: amazon.com/author/dannygrosso

The Last Confederate State

 

Beginning again…

 

By some treachery

early assassination

military fumble or act of Providence

the war was abated just after it began

and the free and slave states

coexisted for a century and more

until the tenuous status quo

lashed together by the horror

of those first few days after Antietam

when the ledger of principle was displayed

in red with green fields tred to black

and no one sought to dare anymore

the wielder of the scythe

who takes equal relish in mowing down

one’s brother and other

until the industrial power of the north

and the riches it produces

became the glitter that

arouses the kindle in the cold of the soul.

 

The border states were first

for they could lay blame

on the proximity of a commercially thriving neighbor

eager to trade

but soon others joined in

voting themselves into the fold

as they did then

until the ninth year of the new century

when the last confederate state

prepared to rejoin the union.

 

The Secretary of State of Alabama

had to certify the referendum to

make the tally official but

he suffered threats from those on the right

incensed at the prospect of losing a war fought

for a hundred and fifty years

and pressure from those on the left

impatient after waiting on affirmation

for a hundred and fifty years

and distance from his family of nostalgic Alabamans

and the ire of Governor Roy Moore

elected in a last flush of fury

over the impending capitulation

and holding power in a broken place

where the power was about to go out

and Governor Moore was furious.

The north had just elected a half-black president.

So Moore takes his Secretary of State to court

to enjoin the certification of the referendum

and loses enough times to extinguish venues judicial

but wins more political support with each battle

reviving the last days of a war that wasn’t fought

where serial retreats belie a certain swagger

that seeds legend, sympathy, fealty, and resentment

so that when the deed is finally done

and the state at last rejoins the union

a movement is sprouted

with most of its activity extending underground

where it threatens for a century

all that might blossom in the south.

 

–Danny Grosso

 

 

In the golden age of our aspiration, the one just beyond our reach, where what is new and what is just are one and the same, children, all children, dream big, love freely, and live long, happy, and healthy lives.

We are a people too large and diverse to govern, yet persevere we must. There are children here whom,  through separation, or despair, or violence, are in danger of entering a cycle of tragedy  – and the government is a party to this.

No child should be made to believe that that he or she has no place in this world.

There is reason to think we can do better, to build a world where children may walk among the nations unfettered,  where these angels shall have no reason to envy the heavens.

–Danny Grosso

The Slip Kid is late but

I’ve got the cash

to buy cigarettes and gas.

The Greek at the counter

says he’ll take a pass

on tomorrow’s race

he’s betting too fast.

Change in the pay phone

sounds like the Clash

but it’s her voice I hear

and I’m past it.

The neon bleeds on the window pane in

the middle of a starry sea and

into the phone she sings

La dee deeee dee dee dee –

come play on the corner with me.

Driving slow on streets aglow

boat on illuminated sea

port on a curb

more than I deserve

‘cause they’re always there waiting for me.

We’re nine tonight, more boys than girls

but double as the night unfurls and

when the Mars Lights appear

like a movie premiere

they make the blight disappear.

It’s not easy in this time of change

this American morning’s so strange

the flags returned but the jobs went away

and pushed us into the fray.

And now we run or stay and pray.

The neon bleeds on the window pane

in the middle of a starry sea

as a siren of the alleys she sings

La dee deeee dee dee dee –

come play on the corner with me.

Those days are like dreams

that the lights chased away

while alone in a shadow I stayed.

Still it’s real that I feel

your voice’s constant appeal

to never abide my dismay.

Step into my shadow I say;

you say come out and play.

-Danny Grosso 

Instagram @artispolitics

Buy books! My Amazon author’s page: amazon.com/author/dannygrosso

Golf courses and interstates

complacency at alarming rates

among the primrose and wisteria

a pest appears.

 

Chrome and pastel

political poker with a tell

among the wages of prosperity

a committee spreading fear.

 

Rocket ship to missile

four-iron in the thistle

keep your eye on the ball

or the alliance might fall.

 

For all that’s right

in the atomic age

we’ve muddied the way

buried the rage

in the spy speak of

the modern sage

that knows his place but

not for whom he plays.

 

Like Sputnik falling from the sky

espionage and Catcher in the Rye

American dreams will save the day

divert the eye

enhance the array

set the mind a bit astray and

take the sting from

the prices we pay.

 

Unmoved are they as the darkness gathers

when standard of living is all that matters.

 

-Danny Grosso

An agent orange in

a yellow war

draws a curtain but

no fire which is

saved for the poor

G.I. whose sufferings

are borne of

the vilest lie of

evil most mundane of

briefcase C.Y.A. filed

in a safe

in a safe room

in a safe city

half a world away

from the fighting.

 

Mac tied himself in

knots trying to

justify a plan with

unexpected results and

a government left to

painting truthful reportage

as traitorous

that old misdirection

once devastating now

landing with the thud of

suddenly unexplodeable

ordnance.

 

Behind the curtain

searching for an itch that

cannot be found the

arms flail and twist

entwining mind and limb.

 

Once the rightest.

Once the brightest.

 

-Danny Grosso

Promise is

a promise except

when a life is lost and

then it is a tragedy

forever and even

when the line

of sadness is

drawn out so far

into the years that

it loses its peak

the line remains

marking the border

between what is and

what might have been.

 

-Danny Grosso

Beginning again…

 

When Camelot survived

Secret Service man jumped

that big Lincoln early

took a bullet for his sire and

a year later

JFK is re-elected and

at the height of his power

he signs a civil rights bill in

Lincoln’s Springfield home and

he refuses to escalate the war in

Viet Nam

blythly skirting the red bleed

like only he or others like him can

those of his class

clad in linen and pique and

manners and assuredness.

 

By Tet in ‘68 he is done his

great mind elsewhere

working on a library and

a sailboat now and

what to do with Jackie and

Lyndon who hints he can

win the war by keeping us out

save for an espionage team and

some big money and

who seeks the prize he’s wanted

all his life just

like his opponent

old shadow on his face and

in his heart

Nixon’s coming again and

he’s coming up short again

to LBJ’s lie and a massive black turnout

in the closest election in

American history.

 

That Christmas

sensing an opportunity the

Viet Minh escalate and

press on toward Saigon and

by the new year of the

new decade the GOP

has painted the President

in soft pink and

the economy slows and

so do the polls

so LBJ breaks his promise and

sends in the troops

against a movement in ascendancy and

an army with momentum and

a war this messy can’t be

won in a year so

by ‘71 when the candidates are

beginning to prowl the

woods of New England the

fog of war has somehow produced

one clear idea that the

great nation is

losing the war.

 

The populace just wants the

fog abated and

the simplest fastest remedy will

do now because all of the

hand-wringing and

brain-scratching about

advising and

escalating got us a stalemate and

we want to be done and

that affable actor says he

can get it done

by force

in a year

without retreat

without recriminations

without really thinking it through

because government is the problem anyway

an unreasoning conviction

takes the stage embodied in

the affable actor and

LBJ trying to reason

around an enigma

is misplaced or

rather miscast and

his campaign flails at its

directive like a blinded soldier and

fails like a kind one.

 

The sexual revolution proceeds apace and

the Stars and Stripes is on the moon but

a dark mood gathers, molasses slow and

as if in an alternate universe

the affable actor tilts his head and

smiles.

 

Surreal to many

a new wave travels eastward and

as if the embodiment of and

as if enfeebled by

forty years of American history

LBJ’s heart makes it just past the

inauguration where he watches the

affable actor disown the status quo of

a welfare state and Medicare for all of

an allied defense and

back channels with the Soviets.

 

It all must end

the new president says to

a hushed crowd save for

Curtis LeMay laughing with

the profiteers entering

in stride at stage right as

the hardliners inherit

the Viet Nam war.

 

-Danny Grosso