Monthly Archives: January 2016

Impunity of Denmark: The EU’s Deadly Double-Standards

My essay in Counterpunch about the implications of Denmark’s decision to confiscate jewels and assets of refugees (an extreme measure now being imitated in other countries of the EU.)

A painting from 2015 by Dutch-Moroccan artist Nour-Eddine Jarram is published next to my article in CounterPunch.


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It is almost a month now that I am in Argentina and yet the barren landscape of Europe’s pandemonium of xenophobe and anti-immigrant hysteria cannot leave my thoughts. The politics of fear and the Gestapo-like practices of Northern European countries that fill newspapers I read in English and in Dutch. Even when in Argentina, seeing the disheartening authoritarianism of the new Argentinian government, I keep writing articles, essays, poems about the Bosch haywain carnival of cruelty in Europe and hoping they might get published and get talked about a bit. I do it as if in a state of urgency, despite that I am a relatively unknown writer barely escaping my own social non-existence.

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“Poem for the slowing of Island Curses” and “Reading Time Magazine between Patmos and Aruba” in the Stockholm Review of Literature

Source: Arturo Desimone

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The Ministry of Plastic Surgery and Culture (article in CounterPunch)


Propaganda Poster--Coalition of the Anti-Viagrans clamp down on refugees

link to article in CounterPunch magazine

Drawing: political caricature about Dutch politicians: ”Coalition of the Anti-Viagrans: Marc Rutte, Halbe Zijlstra the minister of plastic surgery, Jeroen Dijsselboem eating an ice-cream on Greece, Geert Wilders, and the impaled head of Benito Mussolini.” 2015

“The German high court decided that deporting the Syrian and Eritrean refugees was unconstitutional. Chancellor Merkel, decidedly anti-immigrant and a builder of Fortress Europe policies, had little choice while governing a country where most citizens understand the fine print of democracy, including the sovereign decisions of the supreme court. In European Union countries such as Denmark, Hungary or the Netherlands, democracy has been subverted by xenophobic and technocratic politics, and the judiciary no longer makes any sovereign decisions unless these are permitted by the immigrations police or by business.

“The European Union is a pact based on greed, cloaked in the language of ”sustainability” and jargon, consisting of the many member-states who marveled German economic superpower to such an amazing extent, that they have agreed to surrender into becoming provinces of German superpower. (Economist Joseph Stiglitz suggested the overnight solution to economic crisis in the Euro: Germany’s stepping out, as it has no rival, and then stability would return.)

“Many pro-German EU countries are totally unlike the German society. They have given over to a culture where political campaigns are achieved primarily by television and consumer ad-marketing. Having surrendered their cultural and educational investments as well as their democratic constitutions, they happily sign up for becoming provinces, rather than independent sovereign nations.” Continue reading my fourth article in CounterPunch Magazine

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Poem “nameless girls”

Poem “nameless girls”

The women I slept with were mostly married to lawyers and real-estate brokers,
the women had time to see me and crescendo and cradle we did

as their husbands

sought self-cultivation, metaphysical pastimes, yolking to overcome their ego,

a great dragon-hustle incensed,
Self-cultivated wrap
With their harp lessons
and tabla gurus, who cut them a rate.

But no woman likes a poet, an autodidact poet
except maybe as a pet, or an augur of Her fate,
after the skin flowers on a bed
And never did I wish a lover well with des bones sentiments, after a parting. Ooh
My wishes for them as black and brown as their coronet hair! (Ornament here!)

I accused every Dawn dressed in red russet
all my poems for girls who kept themselves cool-mouthed as I got upset
All these poems in the shape of a woman in the first instants of pregnancy
could have been executed by a painter
one by one, shooting them in the back, maybe even
in the back of the neck, to mix the colors. Stabbing achieves a dawn effect.
Was it Mitterand
or Jean Francois Millet who said “I paint with my penis”? (surely his was littler, as was Hitler’s, Himmler’s and Mao Zedong’s) Tell me I am correct.

The women I slept with were all married to lawyers, real-estate brokers, these men knew how to make those women laugh, when they first met in a pub with their friends, twenty years before, and now no one is laughing.
And never did I wish a lover well with des bones sentiments, after a raging parting.
My wishes as black and brown as their coronet hair! (add Ornament like a curry here)

I accused every Dawn dressed or undressed in red russet or yellow or blue

But a painter cannot
make” Dawn dressed in red russet” or even blue.
A painter makes Venice without my friend de anima, The Merchant.
But it was Mitterand
or Jean Francois Millet who said he paints by penis,
and I bet his palette, going now for 7 million on auction,
then flipping after Sotheby’s in New York for 20 million of which
his children, of all colors,
won’t see a dime.

poem by AD 2016 Buenos Airs


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