It’s been tough to plan and work around poetry or music this month in Minneapolis.

Every time I write a sentence like that one, I start to compose what I think will be a concise account of why that is – and I find I can’t do that well enough, partly because there so much to say. To try to put down all the things I’m feeling and thinking in this time of daily governmental offenses and stalwart self-less resistance? Impossible – I go the whole gamut, and these instances and reactions don’t wait their turn, queue up to go one at a time: all the emotional and thought-mode flavor combinations rush to be present.

I’m going to assume some of you already have some sense of the constant lying, the retributive violence, the self-congratulatory joy in inflicting pain, and even the sloppy indifference to a lack of competence or good administration.* This operation is like someone took one of our mad and mentally diminished king’s speeches and sought to make them a battle plan: and so the incursion goes on and on, jumping from half-truth to 100, no 200, no 500 percent less truth, never really making a point or achieving an objective, becoming instead an example of how one can, without any checks or accountability, say or do anything (however stupid, cruel, or shameful).

“I must be powerful,” thinks our mad despot and his dukes and vassals – “for I can do something so badly, with so little care, crowing with pride about hurting my own countrymen!”

Those who don’t know this? You’ll need to find out more elsewhere. I urge you to do so. Those that are sure I’m the deluded one? Why are you still reading today? I will be getting back to literary poetry soon if you come here for that.

Yes, I’m tentatively trying to get back into finishing new musical pieces, though events may continue to make that difficult. I do have this for today: another version of the definitely not a topical song “I’m on Fire (and I’ve got mountains of ice to melt)” composed by Parlando alternative voice Dave Moore using some words borrowed from speeches by 19^th century American abolitionist Wendell Phillips – but this time instead of Dave’s own voice and piano it’s a solo performance recorded on a cell phone back in 2014, accompanying myself on acoustic guitar. Between these two versions, I gave preference to Dave’s, not just for the justice of having him sing it, but because back when both versions were new, most listeners thought that my performance repeated the chorus too often. Thinking of that now, I’ll adapt William Blake: maybe the only way to know when we’ve said that line about melting mountains of ice enough is to say it too much.

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*What a lousy sentence that is! People being shot, even killed, families separated, reverse Raptured cars with vacated driver’s seats. Doors busted down with battering rams without a warrant. Supreme Court nod-and-a-wink approved detainments where folks are grabbed, thrown down in the snow, handcuffed, taken to a makeshift jail for a day or so, only to be released with no charges or immigration regulations violations. Tear gas, pepper spray, and “less-lethal” weapons used more likely for sport and revenge than necessity – and I still have the officiousness to end my sentence by objecting to these agents poor organization and the incapacity of their leadership to make a detailed, defensible, consistent case for the necessity of their actions.