WE SUPPORT YOU, DEAR LEADER
O beloved Supreme Leader of the Greatest Country of all
The oceans, the rivers, the sky above all praise your name,
We kiss in absentia your pinchable cheeks as your mother once did when you were but a fledgling
and fondle your masterful hair-do, a modern-day pompadour
worn by the rebel James Dean. You would like his movies. I'll bring you some.
We back you, Supreme Leader, from what the Barking Dog, the Maniac, the Dotord said of you before the world.
Unlike his country, we have Equality for All!
We love the sameness of our buildings in Pyongyang, the drab metallic gray uniforms we're forced to wear.
We love our cardboard faces that know not how to smile.
We, after all, are but children and must be guided by the
timeless dynasty of Kim.
When you let famine starve our people, how could we question you, o Noble One?
Rumors of sedition are only that. Pay no attention.
Your hot tea and rice will be served shortly.
Tested of course for floating toxins.
Your fortune cookie has the happiest of messages.
Dream on, Supreme Leader, in the Dotord capital of the world.
***
As I said on FB, the photo of Kim Jong Un was so compelling to look at, so utterly ethereal and strange like a sci-fi movie, I had to write about it, which I did in a poem.
Both photos appeared in today's NY Times, 9/22/17.
***
At the HV Library, saw the film THE LOVERS. Was tempted to leave so many times. Few people liked it. It was definitely influenced by Woody Allen. I'll bet Roger Ebert liked it. Shall we have a look?
Indeed he did. I'll read the review later.
***
Afterward went to Mom's to help eat the delicious brisket and also help her afterward with making her famous Sauerkraut Dish.
I had no dessert.
I'd mentioned yesterday that she and I should play Scrabble. When I got home I saw that my poem "My Mom and I Play Scrabble" will be published in Blood and Thunder.
Ellen said, "Oh, you wrote that to boost your ego?"
I was so shocked I said to her, "What are you talking about?"
And my hard/hearing mother couldn't understand the name of the magazine or why it's called dat.
We both grated a huge tater for the sauerkraut dish and also some onion. My mother kept saying - we were reading the recipe from the Settlement Cook Book - I never used this recipe before.
Mom, I said. Stop saying that. You've said it a thousand times.
I went to take a nap on the living room couch. Ellen left for the post office and to buy some caraway seed.
Did I sleep? Not sure. But I heard my mom puttering around in the kitchen, walking about. She checked the huge saucepan on the stove, which I'd partially covered with a lid.
I imagined her losing her balance and toppling the entire contents onto the floor and burning herself, possibly immolating herself like a Buddhist. I would run into the kitchen, lie on top of her to put out the flames, and call 9 1 1
They're also gonna print a diabetes story I wrote called I REFUSE. Meaning I won't die of complications of diabetes. I was low and went into the Burger King to eat a chili dog and knew I was saved.
Anything else? We're on a darkling plain now at 6:39 pm. Twilight.
Got cookies?
Nope, I don't keep em at home.
So I made up a little plate of crackers with peanut butter and with Phila Cream Cheese with scallions.
When suppertime comes, I'll eat one of my stale tacos with the salsa and cheese.
Maybe, while eating, I'll read this about North Korea. I'd imagine loads of people are fascinated by it. Are you?
SUPPERTIME!
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