Dac Encanto's Poetry Deconstructed

(The following verse by truculent poet Dac Encanto appears in the University of California Press anthology, Surly Postmodern Poems for Pre-Retro People. "Deuce Moon" explores Encanto's almost pathological hatred for the moon, a leitmotif critics have called "lunar hatred" or, in German, Mondblindheit meaning "moon blindness." I shall perform a short deconstruction, but no insight has yet surfaced to explain this Mondblindheit. Encanto will only spit in contempt if you ask.)
Deuce Moon

by Dac Encanto
Round and bright,
idiot face,
planet wannabe,
taking up space,
(Encanto's lunar works always refer to the moon as full. Once, on a Danish talk show, he was informed the moon appeared in phases and sometimes, not at all. Encanto grew confused and sarcastic, storming off the set, taking with him a pen and a coffee mug.)

Dumb ass satellite,
so uncool,
on your dusty surface,
I'd drop a stool,
(The threat of public defecation appears in many of Encanto's works. This was not an idle threat or a metaphor — as Duke Professor Gale Bogminder has suggested. If properly disturbed, Encanto will mete out a pooey punishment regardless of location or circumstance. The 2006 panel incident at the UCLA Book Fair is the reason all subsequent poet panels have been required to keep mobile screens and drums of disinfectant at the ready. Bogminder knows this.)

But I can't,
(I'd die),
You lucked out,
No lie, G.I.
(Encanto's poems are peppered with pidgin-english phrases often associated with Asian prostitutes such as "You Numba 10," and "Souvenir me carton of Salems, baby." Context often provides a hazy explanation. As to the moon having "lucked out," this refers to an incident at the height of Mondblindheit when Encanto tried bribing NASA to have the moon killed. All charges were eventually dropped. However, Encanto did serve jail time for an incident that took place in court involving the prosecutor's briefcase.)

Kiley Trains for Leona Divide 50

Last practice today for the Phoenix runners. Next week, Write Enough will join the team in Arizona for Sunday's Phoenix Marathon. Some teammates are recovering from injuries while others are bored with training and ready to put a race in the books. I'll be walking about the course, checking on this one and that one, helping the half-marathoners finish and full-marathoners endure. I'm thinking they'll do just fine.


On the subject of endurance, TNT Coach Kiley has commenced training for a 50-mile run. The Leona Divide 50 winds through the Angeles National Forest near Lake Hughes. Not content preparing for a double-marathon, he has also committed to raise 5K for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Having lost his dad to non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, Kiley takes his training and the mission of LLS quite seriously. (Without getting all stuffy and arch about it.)

Follow along with Kiley as he blogs his journey toward an April 18th date with discomfort.

Also, stop by his fundraising site and help out with whatever you can.

Vegetarian hog dogs. I watched someone eat one today. Would a carnivore dine on meat-wheat? I'll leave that as an open question.

The Pilfered Gnome

(The following excerpt is from a highly reviewed, young adult mystery: Jimmy Lee Caper: Unpopular Teen Detective by Preston Haggis.)

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Jimmy Lee Caper - rude, selfish, junior detective.

Elmo Montpelier - Jimmy's best friend, an affable, young hunchback.

Professor Lincoln Mancrisp - Stern headmaster of Quillham Academy; addicted to pizza rolls.

Hannah Hooverton - Jimmy's clever, ambitious classmate.

Dr. Thane Blackingham - Eerie, mysterious owner of a tall dark tower.

——————————————————————————————————————————

CHAPTER ONE

WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?

Jimmy rapped sharply on Professor Mancrisp's office door. "I wonder what the old jerk wants now?"

"He sounded mad," whispered Elmo."I think this time we're really gonna get it."

"Cool it, Mount McKinley."

Elmo rubbed his hunchback defensively. "Do you have to call me that?"

"Yeah, I do. There's an alp growing out of your back."

The door swung open and Professor Mancrisp towered over the boys, a pizza roll stuck in his great red beard. "Enter, young gentlemen. We're going to discuss a missing lawn gnome. I hope for your sakes that you didn't take it.

Exchanging worried glances, Jimmy and Elmo entered the Professor's cluttered office. They sat upon stacks of books while the professor cleared space on his desk, shoving aside a microwave oven and several pepperoni pizza roll boxes. Perching on a desk corner, the professor wiped away the dangling roll from his beard and grasped a long ash cane. "I want answers."

"Or what?" sneered Jimmy.

Professor Mancrisp smacked the cane down on his desk. "Don't cross me, Mr. Caper, or I'll beat you so hard you'll wail like an old Cheyenne squaw at a massacre."

"Better not," said Jimmy weakly. He respected brute force and knew from bitter experience the Professor wasn't bluffing. And for that, he'd pay back Professor Mancrisp someday.

"The Great Gnome of Quillham has gone missing,"said the professor. "It was last seen yesterday evening in its customary place before the administration building. This morning, a student, Miss Hooverton, reported it missing.

"Ha," snorted Jimmy. "Hanna's nose is browner than a crap log. She probably swiped it so she could report it missing and win suck-up points with the teachers."

"Hanna wouldn't do that," cried Elmo."She's kind and decent."

"What do you know, mountain back?"

Professor Mancrisp pointed the ash cane at Jimmy. "That sounds like another hunchback insult. Apologize to Mr. Montpelier."

Jimmy mumbled something, while Elmo grinned as if enjoying a fine jest. But mentally he crafted an image of Jimmy with his foot caught in a storm grate while a fiery iron mallet descended from the sky, smashing him into flaming, bloody chunks. "Oh, Jimmy was just kidding. It doesn't bother me."

The Professor looked perplexed. "Why do you pal around with him, Mr. Montpelier? He insults you, borrows money that he never repays, and often puts a football under the back of his shirt, the better to mock you. Don't you deserve better?"

Elmo shrugged. "My Aunt makes me do it. She's rich and kinda nuts. Auntie says it's a moral test: if I can hang out with Jimmy all through Quillham, there isn't anything I can't do in life. And after graduation, she'll pay for an operation to remove my hump. I'd rather have the operation now and worry about the rest of my life later, but that's the way it goes."

"'That's the way it goes,'" sneered Jimmy in a mocking sing-song.

The professor sighed, seemed about to comment, but returned to the original matter. "In any case, that plaster Gnome with its vacant politician's smile, has stood upon the lawns of Quillham for 113 years. It is part of our rich heritage. Now suddenly it's gone. What do you know, Mr. Caper?"

"Man, are you whoofing or what? I didn't take your stupid Gnome. But I'll bet I could find out who did. I bet I could find out before you."

"Really, Mr. Caper? You've had a little success solving small mysteries around here. Some people even think you're a regular Sherlock Holmes."

"Who's that?"

"Skip it. But I think you've benefited from blind pig luck and observant companions."

"That's a load," yelled Jimmy. "I'm the smart one. I'm the one who figures things out. And I'll find that gnome and you'll look as dumb as an old wino eating pizza rolls under a bridge."

With a whistling crack, the professor brought the ash cane down on Jimmy's hand.

"Owww! What was that for?"

"Metaphorical insults count the same as real ones. Very well, Mr. Caper. Locate the gnome and we'll discuss intelligence later."

Jimmy smirked. "What do I get for finding it?"

Professor Mancrisp held up the ash cane. "Think more along the lines of what you won't get."

Outside the faculty building, Jimmy and Elmo walked quickly, pulling Quillham blazers tight around their collars in the crisp autumn air. Jimmy seethed, shaking his sore hand. "Where does that old fart get off hitting me?"

"I don't know," said Elmo, still enjoying the moment.

Jimmy seemed mystified. "Nothing sticks to him. I've ratted the professor out to Child Protective Services for beating me with that stick. I've planted kiddie porn on his computer and called the feds. I've told the cops he was an old fruit who tried to queer me. I swear, the guy is made of lucite. Stuff that's worked with every teacher, parent, child psychologist, social worker, and counselor just slides off old Mancrisp. What's worse, he's becoming a hero to other adults. I gotta find a way to pull the plug on Dr. Pizza Roll."

Elmo struggled to keep up with Jimmy."What about the gnome?"

"How the hell should I know? You got five?"

Elmo handed him a new five-dollar bill. "Thanks, McKinley," said Jimmy as he jogged across the quad, away from the hunchback. "I'm gonna get a burger at the student center. Why don't you ask around, see what we can dig up on the gnome. Are we cool?"

"Hey, no problem," called Elmo to Jimmy's back. For a brief moment, he wished he could mentally kill people like in Firestarter, but the moment passed as Elmo wearily waddled off toward the administration building.

Pacific Northwest Deluge

Photos from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer of flooded I-5 near Centralia. We drove through here last week on our way back to LA. There was more green than brown.

Beware the Pineapple

All that northwest Christmas snow is now melting with a vengeance, flooding freeways and isolating the citizenry, including my sister, Mary. She lives outside Olympia near the town of Yelm with her roommate, plus Judy the dog. Below is Mary's sodden dispatch:

"Today Vail Road was closed south of my place where it goes over the Deschutes River and in the other direction up by the turn off into Yelm along Black Hills Road. I had over 4" of rain at my house yesterday! The winds are fierce but we're not even close to getting the worst of it. There are talking heads on the TV saying worst flooding EVER.

I had my first recording session for BirdNote yesterday in Seattle and I was going to stay in town and drop a disc off at McCann's and have dinner with Annie and Paul Soustek but I bolted for the south as soon as I finished the session and it was akin to fleeing Sodom. I did not look back but I heard roads were closing behind me as I monitored the radio. I had to drive the diciest section of I-5 (in the urban area) by Tacoma. They ended up evacuating 7,000 people from the area beside that spot by the time I got to Yelm. They also closed a 20 mile section of I-5 that you had driven through Chehalis/Centralia area, just south of where the alpaca farm is that you passed on the way back to Glendale. They had had terrible flooding just south of there last year. For awhile there was no way to go by road or rail from Seattle to Portland. The back roads were closed or flooded too. Seattle's kind of cut off since all the passes through the Cascades are closed or impassable, closed from snow or avalanche danger. I'm not sure how that rehab is going but I'll get the scoop on the 5:00 news coming up in an hour or so.

A good thing they learned from the devastation last year in these rural spots was to design an emergency plan for evacuation of critters. Last year they lost a dreadful amount of horses and cattle, sheep, goats and alpacas. Pierce County had a plan in place and the critters are fine as they evacuated about 22,000 people out that a way and who knows how many cloven hoofs.

I went to the store, bought 30 lbs of food for [dog] Judy and the fixins for a huge pot of Irish Stew for me and I'm fixing on fixing that up tonight to take me through the weekend. I will not be in a fix unless I lose power before the crock pot is finished. Then I use the burner on my BBQ grill."

Here's a site with road updates and live traffic cams that show dark, empty, watery interstates.

Awaken to Your Past Life's Purpose

(The following is an excerpt from a New Age bestseller by noted mystic Pez Manatee.)

Where on Earth were you yesterday? Atop a hill? Eating Hot Pockets from a bag? Have you forgotten your past and the meaning it once gave you? Do you wonder if I ever stop asking questions? Sometimes. But by focusing on me, you remove awareness from yourself, thus growing fearful. Stop acting like a frightened elk, full of snorting and soiling of yourself. Clean up. But not here. Find a public restroom. And bring your own towel.

Take off a sock. How do you feel? Take off the other sock. Better? Now take off a third sock. Why were you wearing three socks? Sock hogs are never reincarnated. Remember that when you dress.

A light exists in a dark place. That place is your consciousness or, perhaps, Medford, Oregon. I was short-changed there by a waitress. But did I retaliate and place my karma at risk? Of course not. That's what tort lawyers are for.

Wear a salad bowl on your head. Do this and know humility. Do it not and you have a salad bowl that isn't full of dandruff.

Email Oprah. I want to be Pick-of-the-Week. Do this and your karma will be good. Email Oprah. In your next life you will be a postmaster. Lots of paid sick days. Email Oprah. You can drink on the job. Email Oprah. You'll never work again and receive a check every two weeks. Email Oprah.

Bus Riding Then and Now

They were glad to see me back yesterday, the mechanics. "Mr. McCann, we've been waiting." My shocks and struts were repaired. Two new tires had been added. But still more expensive repairs were needed. "You must replace the front shocks. While not as bad as the rear shocks, they are unworthy of you." I passed. I kind of like the bouncing.

In order to get back to the garage, I had to ride a bus for the first time in 25 years. Back in my L.A Connection days, I had car trouble and no money to retrieve it from the shop. So I took the bus until I saved up enough to ransom my ride. Back then, I was traveling from Hollywood out to the theater in Sherman Oaks. My stop was on Hollywood Boulevard - depressing by day, terrifying by night. For an idea of what it was like, Netflix The Road Warrior. Everything on the Boulevard was the same as in the movie except for no sand or oil refinery, and, maybe 40 or 50 Feral Children with stainless steel boomerangs.

No such drama in La Canada. My trip took twenty minutes and I spent most of it trying to figure out how much a bus ride cost. As the door hissed open, I pulled out some bills. But the woman driver waved me aboard, "You don't have to pay." I thanked her and sat down. Hey, I'm digging the bus. I watched a Mexican woman step on. She flashed a pass to the driver. A young student couple inserted a card into a slot. A guy in his twenties paid a quarter. Then a woman boarded with two kids, exchanged small talk with the driver, and took a seat. I'm guessing she paid with the gift of chat.

Anyway, if you're in town, board the Glendale Beeline #3 Southbound along Foothill Boulevard in La Canada.

They're ready to deal.

Ahoy, Paul Rugg!!

Now onboard the blogging skiff, having hoisted his sail, and planted his flag, and fed his parrot raisins and a frozen waffle. Stop by Froynlaven and say howdy.

A Form of Exercise

Having my car in the shop has provided me the opportunity to walk a few miles to the nearest book shop offering WiFi and coffee. I've taken that opportunity. As I blog and slug down java, I'm noting no tenderness in my knee. This is also a chance to write in the trendy present tense. I'm here. I'm sitting. I'm watching a bus outside. I'm touching a sore spot on the inside of my cheek where I burned myself eating hot pizza. I'm thinking about mailing my loud neighbor a bag of coyote urine, but wonder if that would be a crime? Who could I pay to urine-milk a coyote?

Maybe I'll take the bus back to the repair shop.

Immediacy

Trouble finishing any writing lately, unless it's short blog posts. I realize that's why I like blogging: no meetings, revisions, last second changes, legal notes, marketing suggestions, children's educational advocates, or funny jokes an executive thought up on the way in to work.

Just this.

Winding Down

Almost the last practice for the Winter 08/09 Team as they gear up for the Phoenix Marathon in two weeks. I ran a little bit yesterday, but the tendons in my right knee, though improved, were still tender. I've been doing more T'ai Chi as the basic stance strengthens quad muscles, which, in turn, supports tendons and ligaments around the knee. Turnout was sparse, as a number of participants were enjoying extended holidays or hung over.

Old boss Jean MacCurdy will be in town around the middle of January. Several of us will get together for lunch and learn whaz s'up?