"Nate Self-Regulates," by Hans Ostrom (lyrics) and The Nate Chipp Band

Early Morning Light

He woke up after 2:00 a.m.

in a rented room & looked
out a window & saw one bright
star in a dark sky. It hung

just above isolated
city lights. He guessed
the glinting diamond-like
shining came from Venus.

It took more time than he
thought for him to break
his gaze. Looking at the light
made him feel better. Why
not keep looking, then?--
that was the logic,

which seemed in his life
to prevail in these times
of murky, poisoned skies
hanging low over human
politics, human time.

hans ostrom 2023

She's Rising

She's rising in politics.

Filled with the yeast
of what they say It Takes.
Rising in politics,
for what purpose, she
doesn't know (though she
pretends to), except that
she likes being lifted
by the lifters, placed
by the placers.

She's rising in politics
toward higher office, well
above the People, whatever
they are. She speaks, she
greets, she gestures. Agrees
with certain persons, word-cuts
others. She's rising

with her husband and children,
who are photographed.
She became a politician,
a creature of seems, a
player of positions, dull
drama with consequences.

She falls in line, meets-with,
speaks--providing a mouth
for the ventriloquists. She flies
and of course, lies.

She rises, a balloon above
the people, who get smaller
  and smaller.

Hans Ostrom 2022

Politics at the Carnival

A political scientist once recommended the book, Constructing the Political Spectacle, by Murray Edelman (1988). It seems to be a book that constantly applies. 

Oh, the problems

over there in that city

where buildings sag

and people collide,

stuporous from toil

and streaming their lives. 

Here at the carnival,

all lights and salt and sugar,

our leaders and those who

would replace them

have slathered on

the clown makeup.

They ride the wheels

and loops above. They

shout, "We'll save the city!"

We don't believe them

but we cheer.

hans ostrom 2022

Jim Crow Never Left

In America White Supremacy's
the deepest state of all. Jim Crow
never left. He became Chief Justice.
He became President and Senate,
infiltrated police departments
and border patrols. His spores

live in millions, who demand
(and get) a nation in which only
they are people. Jim Crow always
demands and gets. His sulphorous
spirit rides in white sheets through
people's stupidity-soaked rage.

Only people who think they're white
can get rid of White Supremacy,
and they never do. They can't live
without it. It forms the core
of their religions, schools,
and neighborhoods. So

Jim Crow never left,
stays obese by feasting
on America's depraved soul.
He's driving the segregated
train back toward 1920
and off a cliff.


hans ostrom 2018

America, Here's the Package

Here's the package: the hair looks
like a collapsed straw pompadour,
the skin like faded naugahyde. The
vocabulary goes zero to sixty and
stops, the attention span the same
in seconds. He can't even fake
empathy.  Is delighted to be ignorant
of history, science, economics, politics,
music, art, psychology, law, philosophy.

The White Supremacist road begins
and ends in an abyss of willful ignorance.

It's as if he played Monopoly instead
of learning even the most basic of
human things. He's witless, petty,
dull, and unctuous  Couldn't plan a sneeze
after inhaling pepper. Shouldn't
even be president of his local
hate group.  Consider how many
White folks still think he's all
right, and that will tell you where we are.


hans ostrom 2017

What a Lovely Afternoon

(acknowledging Calvin and Hobbs, and Henry C.)

What a lovely afternoon,
in spite of the fascist President
of Amerixon and his cabinet
full of rapacious rats. What
a lovely afternoon, shining
down on poverty and pain
and insufficient rain. What

are we going to do about this
fix in which science is treated
as a cartoon and hateful lore
displaces logic?  Not sure

we can do anything much
(but what a lovely afternoon)
except watch a culture try
to commit suicide and take
so many innocent people with it.



hans ostrom 2017

Christians and Guns

The senator called on all
Christians to arm themselves
with pistols and rifles
against something he saw in his head,
a space
also inhabited by oily sand dunes,
asymmetrical concrete blocks,
mud puddles, and small
household appliances.

And by Jesus, of course,
riding into town on a donkey,
his pistol holstered,
the rifle across his legs.

The senator can't find scripture
for his alarm, but that don't matter,
children; that don't matter.


hans ostrom 2015

"Politics," by Ambrose Bierce

Poli-Tics

Politics
Slit
Tic
Clot
Slop
It
Slip
Post
Plot
Lot
Cop
Lop
Sop
Cot
Lit
Lip
Lisp
List
Politics




hans ostrom 2013

Steady As She Goes

Yes, it was in
that decade when
the first animated
cartoon-character
was elected to
Congress. Financiers
bought the Air Force--
all part of privatization.

Regarding privacy,
citizens played online
surveillance-games
and mugged for
the cameras they
knew about. Personal

letters were criminalized
for being inefficient
and vaguely subversive.
Through it all,

careers flourished.
The number of opinions
held remained steady.



hans ostrom 2013

The U.S. Congress, Observed

Have you been watching
these little legislative haters,
these law-mockers and logic-blockers
sent to the Hill (our Golgotha)
with cash stuffed up their pipes?

They've done no reading in history,
economics, philosophy, or science.
Their self-interest is artless, their
corruption as bald as a brass door knob.

It's a little like watching a person
with lousy reflexes drive a stock car
at Darlington or Daytona,
or some drunk college lad
pick a fight with a seasoned
body-guard. It can't end
well. Yes, of course,

after the wreckage, it will be we
who'll have to clean up
as best we can. Politics
now seems to have an endless
supply of punks, and
not the musical kind.


hans ostrom 2013

An American Political Reformation

No, there isn't any revolution coming. For
the FBI will have infiltrated it before it
starts. A reformation (go figure) will be
more revolutionary. Here's the deal:

White working-class people will have to stop
taking Right Wing bait like dumb catfish.
Friends, the Black president isn't coming after
your guns. The real problem is that he and
every other president is willing to let
the system come after your wages, your cash,
your house. Shake hands with Black folks,
White folks. Shake hands with each other.
You';re not each other's enemy, you dig?

Neither Party gives a shit about you.

To repeat: Neither Party gives a shit about you.

To go Sixties for a moment: get your shit
together. Fuck with their heads. What if
neither Party could count on your support
unless it did something serious
about your economic well being? That
is a very simple question.

Stop letting these people pimp your
fears. Ask them how they will make your
life--your life--not the life of your guns
or your prejudices, better. Friends,
get your shit together, fuck with their
heads, and change the rules.


hans ostrom, 2013

Sacramento Capitol Mall

Politicos stride like totalitarian colonels.

Professionals lean into conversations

about cash-flow, internal control, and impact (a verb).

Winos stand against a wall and shiver

their way out of hallucination,

their shirt-fronts soaked with the Lamb's

most inexpensive blood; bums pick through rubbish

and sleep under news; the mad testify

to streetlights and themselves.

No one runs for office anymore

except the staffs of those who ran before.

They govern each other and whisper about us.

Sunlight remains democratic.

We walk in it together

between the muddy river and the capitol.

We are lobbyist and lunatic, accountant and pickpocket,

admin-assistant, tech-person, plumber,

and Ph.D. student writing about

power-relationships.

I find myself wondering not at all

about the powerful. I focus on a trembling hand

that picks through garbage. I fork over

a few bucks to the hand's person.

who gargles the words, "God bless you."

 Somewhere there’s a photo

of that man when he was six years old

and squinting at the camera, happy in a summer

in another state.

Maybe you finally come to hate poverty

enough to pursue it as an art;

maybe a thousand left hooks in the downtown gym

finally leave your brain fizzed like pink champagne,

and you're on the street mumbling to a corner man

who isn't there. Or somebody dies, and your way

of understanding that is to let go the things

that hint of looking forward,

including the grammar of love,

and love of self, and taking tomorrow straight.

Yeah, so, I gave him a few bucks, which will

go for booze, not a sandwich, and I don’t care

because it’s not my money anymore,

and as the Capitol might whisper,

it never was. 

Copyright 2013 hans ostrom

Voting Biblical Principles

Someone encouraged me
to vote for Biblical principles
in a recent election. I didn't
see any on the ballot.

Well, now, there was
this one thing about supporting
a bond to maintain bus-routes
in this city. I know how
working people have the Devil's
own time getting to and from
work, shops, family, and clinics.

Although Jesus Christ
never rode a bus, only
a donkey, I still figured
voting to pay to keep up
the bus-routes wasn't
anti-Biblical.  Right?

The measure failed.


Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom

Elections

In this our word-meat phase,
we control-alt-delete
soothing Constitutional lullabies.

Technicians drive translucent
needles into our representatives'
brains to lubricate the legislative

mastication. From under sheets
of plastic ice, we can't see Government.
It is a rumored air-ship high above.


Hans Ostrom, 2012

The Homosexual Agenda and Weather

 The Homosexual Agenda and Weather


"Defend and Proclaim the Faith Ministries' Founder and Pastor John McTernan has blamed Hurricane Sandy on homosexuals and President Obama, reports Gay Star News [October 29, 2012]"


I see where a pastor opined
that a big tropical storm
arose because of the homosexual
agenda, which I gather
goes as follows:

1. Call to Order
2. Approve minutes from the previous homosexual meeting.
3. Old Business: continuing to be who we are.
4. New Business: affecting the weather.
5. Adjournment.


Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom

It Is Election Season

It is Election Season in the U.S.A.
The Right knows exactly what it hates
but not what it supports. What passes
for the Left knows exactly what
it supports but not what it opposes.
The sheer weight of cash
breaks the back of democracy's
bridge: boom--into the river.

In the meantime, no fundamentals
will change.  You could say it was
lost in the Constitution. Or later,
when railroads took over.  Or
even later, when no one listened
to Eisenhower's farewell address.
You select your starting point,
your ending, your epistemic closure.

It is lost. Those who would challenge
the fundamentals were exposed
as noble but impotent: Occupy.
Those who should be occupied
pretend to be our close personal
friends: the media. Those

who work too much for not
enough will always
and forever get The Shaft.
It is Election Season in
the U.S.A. White men
are hanging chairs from
suburban trees, a most
safe evocation of lynching,
indeed, sir. Indeed sir.


Hans Ostrom, 2012

Commissioned Sonnet

Going through old computer-files and -documents, I found a sonnet I'd written that had been commissioned.  Someone from the Politics and Government Department where I teach (U. of Puget Sound) had asked me to write a poem to be read at their departmental graduation-gathering.  This was in 2008.

About all I can say for the sonnet is that it is worth at least what they paid me for it, nothing.

I thought a sonnet--or some traditional form--was appropriate for the occasion. Every so often, I like to write a "commissioned" thing.  It's an interesting challenge.

Commencement Bay is the name of the harbor next to Tacoma.


Sonnet: To Graduating Seniors in Politics and Government

We’ve been the captains of your classes here,

The admirals of your splendid senior theses.

Today we are mere ensigns of good cheer

As you depart these arches, bricks, and trees.

Your learning is your cargo. Politics

And Government’s the dock from which you sail.

The world out there is one we hope you’ll fix.

May warm and fairly traded winds prevail.

Now, after several years at Puget Sound,

You’ll voyage from your own Commencement Bay

To ports where possibilities abound.

With pride we raise a toast to you and say:

In governing your lives, be politic

And always vote for wisdom—that’s the trick.

Hans Ostrom, 2008, 2012

Political Arguments

Nobody knows what they're talking about.
Or, they know what they're talking 
about only because they made it up.

Judging from the noise and heat,
you might think these people
really believe they affect outcomes.

You might even think
the politicians to whom they're
loyal are loyal to them!

These people arguing
are like watchdogs barking
and growling, guarding

a piece of turf no one sees.
Political arguments
are imaginative enterprises. 


--Hans Ostrom, 2012