Villainelle, First Attempt

Playing with the form, riffing on the Brain Radio

I didn’t know why I was wrong.
I thought I was bad company.
That’s what it said in that old song.

Just got along to get along
That’s what I thought my life should be
I didn’t know why I was wrong.

To get it on! To bang a gong!
Diamond star halo waits for me!
That’s what it said in that old song.

Felt wrong inside my whole life long
At least that’s how it seemed to be
I didn’t know why I was wrong.

I wondered as I walked along
Someone in my head that wasn’t me
Just like it said in that old song.

The radio played another song
About the man I’ll never be
I didn’t know why I was wrong
That’s what it said in that old song

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Ten More American Sentences

Read at the Sunday Word Open Mic, 7/6/25

Six black vans. Two cop cars. A school bus with blacked out windows. Ice convoy.

Mar-A-Lago Alcatraz. Leave the alligators out of this mess.

Shadow on my soul. Fear I’ll die under torture by the government.

I wake in the night thinking of Montreal. Mornings I wake up at home.

Took the garbage out this morning. The local systems are still working.

Local systems are best. You only drop bunker busters on strangers.

Gil Scott-Heron said, “The Revolution will not be televised.” Hi.

No matter what, we must keep fighting. You and I can beat back the fash.

Saw you in the Square that fine day, screaming about a revolution.

Two Trumpers and a thousand screaming, dancing, feisty lefties. Winning.

Here are Some New Seven-Word Stories

Imagine Israel and Palestine, a single state.

I am listening to the first Genesis.

I am enjoying a glass of Meletti.

I need to write about this album.

*å#@#å*

We’re painting our house red next week.

The US has a corrupt neoliberal government.