Monday, April 30, 2007
Iraq Rebuild: Your Tax $ At Work (Not), American Investment in Iraq Reconstruction Projects At Risk, Inspector General Report Finds - CBS News
Iraq Rebuild: Your Tax $ At Work (Not), American Investment in Iraq Reconstruction Projects At Risk, Inspector General Report Finds - CBS News
An inspector general report on Iraqi reconstruction projects found that of 8 sampled projects declared successes and turned over to Iraqi control, 7 are no longer functioning properly, if at all.
Sites suffered from deterioration, poor or no maintenance, or were not even being used by the people for whom they were built, at a cost to U.S. taxpayers of approximately $150 million.
An inspector general report on Iraqi reconstruction projects found that of 8 sampled projects declared successes and turned over to Iraqi control, 7 are no longer functioning properly, if at all.
Sites suffered from deterioration, poor or no maintenance, or were not even being used by the people for whom they were built, at a cost to U.S. taxpayers of approximately $150 million.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Restrained
The fantasy of grape stained rage
Died in the transistor radio
While playing the oldies
One more time than he cared
To snap his fingers or necks
Of chicken like
His hard mannered grandma
Would do behind
The raspy gray tool shed
Died in the transistor radio
While playing the oldies
One more time than he cared
To snap his fingers or necks
Of chicken like
His hard mannered grandma
Would do behind
The raspy gray tool shed
Poet's obsessions
"If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little - somebody who is obsessed by Making." ~ e. e. cummings
Worthwhile Workshop
I met an extremely brilliant and engrossing artist of varied talents at a writers workshop yesterday.
So, here I am setting in this room with a hand full of other writers and Debra Di Blasi, the instructor, begins her spiel, except that it's not just that, I am quickly realizing that this person thinks like a poet. Writing conferences that are not geared towards poetry can often be a mixed bag of goods and I always prepare myself by trying my hardest to keep an open mind about the usefulness and application of knowledge shared.
Di Blasi is in fact versed in so many areas that she would be a superb resource for any art discipline. Indeed, Debra interestingly asserts that where the literary arts are concerned the boundaries are collapsing.
I came away with some refreshing ideas and energy.
So, here I am setting in this room with a hand full of other writers and Debra Di Blasi, the instructor, begins her spiel, except that it's not just that, I am quickly realizing that this person thinks like a poet. Writing conferences that are not geared towards poetry can often be a mixed bag of goods and I always prepare myself by trying my hardest to keep an open mind about the usefulness and application of knowledge shared.
Di Blasi is in fact versed in so many areas that she would be a superb resource for any art discipline. Indeed, Debra interestingly asserts that where the literary arts are concerned the boundaries are collapsing.
I came away with some refreshing ideas and energy.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Making Room
"I'm alive today, therefore I'm just as much a part of our time as everybody else. The times will just have to enlarge themselves to make room for me, won't they, and for everybody else." ~ Stevie Smith
I Am
Back from a Writers Workshop
What did I buy – you ask
In a random sort of way
As if maybe you care and maybe not
I bought myself back from linoleum
And I am now vertical
The food was –
Well it was
But the sun hid for while
And time was what it always is
Approximation of something taught to us
But what if it isn’t at all
What if the war were to eclipse time
Would it matter if one fell face down dead in the dirt
Or if 32 hundred and change came home boxed in memory
To families that could not reset their watches and make it go away
Words coagulate to prove
The math backwards
And if I write – I am
What did I buy – you ask
In a random sort of way
As if maybe you care and maybe not
I bought myself back from linoleum
And I am now vertical
The food was –
Well it was
But the sun hid for while
And time was what it always is
Approximation of something taught to us
But what if it isn’t at all
What if the war were to eclipse time
Would it matter if one fell face down dead in the dirt
Or if 32 hundred and change came home boxed in memory
To families that could not reset their watches and make it go away
Words coagulate to prove
The math backwards
And if I write – I am
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