Dana and Jilana,
	I wondered if I could submit my poems in the form of a poetic communique. I want to bring together all the various strands of my activity: from promoting FKR and the Goose Poets of New York to blue collar unity to Kentucky heartache poetics. Feel free to cut any of the poems for space considerations, but would it be possible to retain the title and incantation?
	Also, your readers might be interested in a story on bops,crack,boom! press and the Blue Collar tour. Maybe, maybe not. Contact me if you think it sounds interesting.
						Thanks,
						 Jordan


blue collar radio transmitting 
through alien frequency
by Jordan Green

roots rock rebels,
this uh poetic agitation internationale
working youth stick together 
from Tejano borderlands to mod rockers UK, 
Goose New York to rude boy Jamaica,
Harlan, KY to Harlem, NY


For my buddy, FKR
Mr. Rain,
I was jizzin the world, making way for you
Mr. Rain,
You prophesy the future of the word

FKR, why has there to be...
   so much strain?
we all holed up in our crude hovels, sweatin for a rent
   and they call this a livin (?!*)

eh Mr. Rain,
  what the hell is wrong with me?
  I'm not who I ought to be
in this dislocation
  no name, no name
all the time, it's just the same
  9 to 5

eh Mr. Rain
  it's no need to feel shame

an when we go ta Nuh Orleans for a little jazz and rude libation,
we ain't no swingers, no casino gamblers
we sit on the patio flirting with a 40 year old cocktail waitress from Brooklyn

sweatin, prostratin on slim pay check
this uh what make you and me great lovers
real cool lovers rock like Joe Strummer say

we'll fight when our back is against the wall
but it is love which we really want


Born to Lose
for my dad, Richard Green, 
who died in a tractor accident the day after my 17th birthday

my shit in this world was much remiss
I couldnÕt stumble for falling
mixed up shook up beat up
put my foot in the wrong shoe
Holy God help me through it
I was just going through the motions
I was sea sick, not even sure I wanted to breathe
 full of a fervor I could not name
just pushed out into the wide world with nothin
 cept for velocity
like a machine that runs the way it should,
 but no soul, no love
born to lose too easy to bruise


Honky Tonk Girls

It wasn't God who made honky tonk angels.
-Kitty Wells

Don't put her down; you helped put her there.
-Hazel Dickens

It's for lack of love that these women stay out late in bars
Honky tonk angels with the flush of alcohol in their cheeks
Happy and drunk, so sad and forgotten

That ain't love, those slobbery kisses
That sparkle in the eye, it comes with the territory

Honky tonk angels fall off bar stools, into somebody's arms
Anybody willing,
Any asshole with a hard dick and quick, seductive words

Honky tonk angel, fast food belly
 sloppy smile, heart of gold
Left her pretty child home with grandma
When the father went off looking for something bright and shining
These honky tonk angels come out to the bar looking for a catch
Because living's come too fast
And the seductive words come too fast
Hard and glinting and full of luster
So fast they make a girl's head spin
The tell-tale touch
The soused brain that can't tell genuine affection
 from cheap opportunism
Big strong arms, jumpy hands that make a girl's breath catch
Grasping hands, wild limbs, and a quick, empty fuck
Everything just happens too fast, too fast
But not quite fast enough to take these women out of a trailer park hell
Where the neighbors keep you up at night with their fighting
And evil men have strange designs on you
Not fast enough to take you out of this cracked linoleum purgatory
 trash in the backyard, dogs fighting in the street

                                 methamphetamine dream

Not quite as fast as a big white Cadillac
That would give these women a quick way out
That would give them new bodies without stretch marks and smeared lipstick,
 without all those wrinkles and shadows under their eyes

Honky tonk angel, I knew you could be beautiful up in God's heaven
I knew you could be beautiful if you could only scrape away all the years of your hard life
Working and raising kids and baby broken men who didn't know what they wanted
took it away
Hard living and sleepless nights, drinking in a bar
took it away
Honky tonk angel, I know you were beautiful once before
 

For Rude Rockers Everywhere
A working man canÕt tell his want from its consequence
WhaÕ the fuck?!*
Air ye jus waitin for the world ta happen?
Ah know this time ahÕll be ready faer it
Ah cannae be sittin around schemin

Mulatto marauders, rude boys on the run
Donnae scheme and cheat
Listenae rhythm, blood pumpin in your veins
The rhythm is pure
It doesnae lie
Act from intuition, no scheme