YouLoveMe

We let Facebook buy Insta and What's App, I got along well with Mark--really Sheryl-- After the fact, was it all a mishap? Should we have put them over a barrel? I think I was right to champion tech, The sector was usefully disruptive, You shouldn't cut off a golden goose's neck, It's propping up losers that's corruptive. Intelligent regulation's a must, But old-time populism gets it wrong, I agree, Mitt.  Netflix merits my trust, Tech is not a villain to bang with a gong. Liberal ethics can best guide our nation, I am committed to innovation.

My Thought Crime Political anger lives inside me, I tore up news photos for many years, First ones of Nixon and his GOP, I ripped out Osama with nails and shears.    I quit.  But after Jan. 6, the urge came back, This time it took a more sinister form, Trump I wanted to shoot, to kill, to whack, With one golf course shot I'd become the storm. My fever broke when Routh was arrested, The dream that I had he almost made real, I search for worth in what I've detested, I've exalted thought.  Can I, like Trump, feel? Must our reason be rooted in passion? If so, should we write in a new fashion?

They say I'm fascist like Mussolini, I say it's good for trains to run on time, I've acted him, played the jut-jawed meanie, But our times are diff'rent, his land's not mine. I'm not saying that I'm better than him, In his shoes I might have done the same thing, In America you can't rule by whim, You've got elections, you let freedom ring. I'm not much at all like the German guy, He hated the Jews 'cuz they were better, I like people who succeed and aim high, Don't put them down--admire the go-getter. The real fascists are people who tear down, I build.  A commie is a fascist clown.

We had a place for a year in Montclair, It was in tbe heart of the pandemic, Our shore place was rented, no refuge there, 'Twas 2020, year of polemic. It was a stud'io at 65 Church, It was the last home of my Aunt Pearl's bed, I climbed from Church to the ridge of pine and birch, The restaurants were lively, the church was dead. I floundered, it was my sabbatical, I took on the craziness of the year, My feelings turned toward the fanatical, I was lucky to have a safe space here. I'm thankful to Java Love and Montclair, My havens for pandemic self-care.

Not all your bells cannot ring, Not all wrong is your offering, There's a glint, a glint in everything, That's how the cracks are seen. [The original: Ring the bells that still can ring, Forget your perfect offering, There's a crack, a crack in everything, That's how the light gets in.]  

We're on Church Street, but we are not a church, We are U-Us who are centered on love, Montclair, as you'll see when you do a search, Is where we are at, not what we are of. And yet people call us the Montclair church, I'm irritated but I understand, 'Tween God and not and "at" and "of" we lurch, Montclair's more than a place, it's our true land. My old church in Orange is Faith + Works, It's lost its identity as a church, In Montclair, Jesus still quietly lurks, I like the two stools between which we perch. I myself am both at and of Montclair, A part of my divided soul lives there.

Before me, it was a lib'ral hellhole, A rat-trap, boosted by network effects, Old Twitter played an orc-ish and fell role, In turning good people into woke wrecks. Have I lifted and boosted my own voice? You bet I have, it's my company now, Being on it is a matter of choice, You don't like it?  Uranus can have a cow. Doge gave fedworld a sharp kick in the pants, A boss must run his organization, When bureaucrats rule, a Pres has no chance, Trump is the CEO of the nation. I tore off the fed'ral lib'ral fetter, Doge like X made democracy better.