Websites and Apps for Making Money


Inspired by The Penny Hoarder website (http://www.thepennyhoarder.com) and the book Frugality for Depressives: Money-saving tips for those who find life a little harder by Abigail Perry, I binged on money-making websites and apps in 2016, and here I’m going to report the results.

But first, some thoughts and caveats.

I realize using these websites and apps requires having certain devices such as a computer, smartphone, or tablet, and some people don’t have these things, but I think a lot of people have at least one device such as a computer or smartphone, or maybe they have a friend or family member who would let them use a computer or tablet. And yes, I realize some people don’t have friends or devices. I don’t have a car so I can’t drive for Uber, but I know other people do. We all have to find the strategies that work for us that we can tolerate.

Some of these sites and apps are for shopping rebates. So you’re getting a dollar amount or percentage of what you spent at a store or online, which means you had to spend money to get the rebate. These make sense to do if you were going to buy things from that store or site anyway. The real purpose of these websites and apps is to sell you things and motivate you to shop. So you have to know not to buy things you don’t want or need to benefit. If getting the rebate becomes the motivation for you buying stuff, then that is counterproductive if your goal is to use these sites and apps to save and make money. But if you were going to buy whatever it is anyway, you might as well get the rebate. I think I would have made more money with the rebate apps if I was buying food and clothing for children. I don’t have children. I go out to events in Chicago a lot, so I got rebates for buying drinks at bars and restaurants.

I’m fascinated that there is a whole culture of people doing these things. I think it reflects some trends and facts of life. I notice a lot of single and/or stay-at-home mothers using these apps and sites. Some of the activities you can do in little spurts, and they don’t take too much mental effort, so you can get them done while the kids are napping, or while taking a break from household chores, or when sitting on the couch too exhausted to move and watching TV. Also, I think the tasks are things people with disabilities could do when they felt up to it without having to leave the house. I noticed in the comments a lot of men who were actively doing them while they were at home sending out resumes. When you’re looking for work and not used to being unemployed, there might be some comfort in doing anything to make money.  Some people said they used them to get gift cards to go to a restaurant for “date night.” A lot of women said they were trying to get money to buy their children Christmas presents.

I want to make it clear that this wasn’t something I “worked at,” in the sense of forcing myself to do something I didn’t want to do and wasn’t interested in simply to make money. This would not make sense, because doing anything else would be a better use of time: scrubbing the toilet; taking a walk; reading a book. So I played and dabbled at them just to find out how they worked. I did them when I was taking a break from doing household chores or when I was having an extreme low energy day. They are something to do while you’re avoiding doing something else or taking a break from something else or just too tired to do something else.

I did only the tasks I felt comfortable with. If they wanted more information than I wanted to give, or if it required paying for offers I wasn’t interested in, or if it just seemed skeevy, I didn’t do it. I read reviews of the sites and apps, and in some cases decided not to do certain things because of bad reviews. I also read “terms and conditions” and “privacy policies.” In some cases I decided against using a site or offer based on these. I think, in general, the more I did these types of activities the more comfortable I became with them and the idea that most of them are reasonably safe. It’s possible I made myself more vulnerable to spam and phishing and that some activities slowed my computer down, but no disasters.

I would have made more money if I had been able to recruit people to do these things using my referral codes, but I didn’t have luck with that. Some people didn’t want any more advertising sent their way, even if they were getting paid to look at it. I have some interest in marketing and branding and find it impossible to avoid being bombarded by advertising anyway, so I’m ok with being paid to look at it.

I’m going to put down what I successfully redeemed, often in gift cards, and sometimes sent directly to my PayPal account.

The standout winner of all the sites and apps I tried is Swagbucks. There are a variety of apps and things to do. Most of them paid as expected. On a very few occasions, as with all of these sites, I wasn't credited as expected for certain offers or surveys, but the amounts for any one thing are so small, most of the time it isn’t worth pursuing. On this issue Swagbucks is better than the others, for example Ebates. Sometimes I would see the same offer on multiple sites, and on Swagbucks the offer paid more than, for example, on  InboxDollars or Earnably.  The things that pay best are rebates on Shop and Earn, though it takes awhile for the amount to credit to your account, and surveys. The frustrating thing about surveys is that I didn’t qualify for a lot of them, so I might attempt several before finding one I was qualified for so I could get paid. Still, Swagbucks is the most fun with games and contests and bonuses for motivation. Also Swagbucks is connected to MyGiftCardsPlus where you can earn Swagbucks for buying online gift cards. So, if you knew you had to buy something at Home Depot or Bed, Bath, and Beyond, or Ebay, or Sephora, for example (there are a whole bunch of them), you could get the gift card and get money back in the form of Swagbucks. By the way, 1 Swagbuck = $0.01, so 100 Swagbucks = $1.00. 

Total earned and redeemed in gift cards (for Amazon, Starbucks, Whole Foods, Target, McCormick & Schmick’s, etc.) from Swagbucks =  $415
My referral link: http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/harphead   

bevRAGE (https://www.bevrage.com/) is relatively new. If you go to a bar or restaurant with a POS system where they can print out an itemized receipt of what you order, you can scan your receipt and get money sent to your PayPal account within a day or two. This was easy to use and worked for me.

Sent directly to my PayPal account from bevRAGE = $49
My personal referral code: NQCVRMIO

InboxDollars is similar to Swagbucks in some ways. You can get rewarded for taking surveys and doing internet searches and watching videos and reading advertisement emails. It took a long time just to earn enough to redeem. The minimum to cash out is $30, but if you get to $40 you don’t have to pay the $3 service fee. Now that I know it actually pays out, I might be more motivated to do it. Before I wasn’t sure that it would actually pay. I don’t like it as much as Swagbucks, but I did better with it than with Earnably.

Total redeemed from InboxDollars in the form of Amazon gift card = $40.03
My referral link: http://www.inboxdollars.com/?r=ref23952979&s=7


I like Perk. It’s really easy to get points just by watching movie trailers and doing “scratch” cards on your phone. Also, you can redeem points for smaller amounts like $5. They pay relatively quickly, in one or two business days. There are a lot of reward gift cards to choose from. If you have the Starbucks app on your phone, the Starbucks gift cards are really easy to add to your balance.

Total earned and redeemed in gift cards (for Amazon, Starbucks, etc.) from Perk = $40.00
My referral link: http://perk.fm/4vbl5

I’m not thrilled with the grocery shopping apps. You have to look through the offers and they change frequently. But Ibotta (https://ibotta.com/) offers rebates from lots of different kinds of stores, not just grocery. I did better with Ibotta than with Checkout 51.

Total redeemed from Ibotta ($20 Amazon gift card and $20 to my Paypal account) = $40
My referral code: eougays

All those Ebates commercials sparked my interest. It’s not a scam, and I’ve been mostly happy with it. Toward the end of the year, I was having trouble getting credit for some of the shopping I did. In some instances, I was able to file a report using the app and get credit that way. Ebates works with LOTS of online stores, so if you do lots of online shopping, it’s worth checking out. I have Swagbucks, Ebates, and Perk buttons on my browser. I check to see which one is offering the best rebate (percentage of purchase) and go with that one. It doesn’t seem to let you use more than one at a time. Sometimes the best is Swagbucks and other times it's  Ebates. Ebates pays every three months if you’ve earned over $5 for that time period.

Total sent to my Paypal account directly from Ebates: $37.55
My referral link: https://www.ebates.com/r/HARPHE3?eeid=28187


Seashells (https://www.getseashells.com/) promises 15% on the “roundups” from your purchases. You link your credit card and it keeps track of your purchases and rounds up the change. When you get up to $20 in roundups, it charges that to your card and gives you a 15% bonus on that amount. So if you purchase something for $2.25, it keeps track of the $.75 and you get 15% bonus on that from Seashells, so, in this example, $.11.  And you know your money doesn't earn 15% just sitting in your checking account. The catch is that you then need to redeem that money in the form of gift cards, but there are quite a few to choose from including Sephora, Home Depot, iHop, Groupon, etc. If you recruit other people, you each get $2 per referral. One thing I don’t like about it is that it doesn’t keep track of the history of your account in a clear way, and I couldn’t make my math match their math. I actually made more than I would have expected, maybe for referrals? 

Seashells bonus on $82.52 for a total of $119.33 in gift cards = $36.81
My referral code: TDikLZ

Amazon Mechanical Turk is different from these other apps, and in a lot of ways less frustrating. It’s not a shopping site. Instead, you do small tasks called HITs (Human Intelligence Tasks) for small amounts of money. Some of them are actually interesting to me. The work is perfect for me because I can work at it when I want and quit when I want.

Amazon gift cards from Amazon Mechanical Turk = $35


I wish ForGoods (http://forgoods.org/join.php) would catch on. This is such a great idea. It actually rewards you for doing worthwhile activities like volunteering and supporting causes.

Starbucks gift card from ForGoods = $20

Shopkick gives you “kicks” (points) just for walking into some stores. You can get “kicks” for scanning particular items in the stores. You can get “kicks” for buying things in the store with your Visa or MasterCard. The points don’t accumulate that fast for me, probably because individual points are worth fractions of a cent, and also I would feel self-conscious walking into a store frequently and never buying anything if I thought the employees would start to recognize me and wonder what I was doing with my phone. It took 1250 “kicks” to get a $5 dollar Starbucks gift card, but I did it. You can also get gift cards for Walmart, Target, Marshall’s, Macy’s, GameStop, Best Buy, Old Navy, and other places.

Starbucks gift card from Shopkick = $5
My referral link: http://get.shopkick.com/arc72902


So the grand total for the new sites and apps I binged on for 2016 is (drum roll): $718.39!


Sites and apps I haven’t earned enough points at to redeem yet:
DailyBreak, website: https://www.dailybreak.com/;
Earnably, referral link: http://earnably.com/i/headharpee;
Check 51, website: https://www.checkout51.com/.

Sites and apps I don’t have much hope for or interest in at all:
Kellogg’s; Bing Rewards; SavingStar.
But someone else might like them.

Apps I just added that I have hope for: Achievemint and Lucktastic


There are all sorts of restaurant and store apps that you can get rewards or reward points with. I’ll mention just a few:

Walgreens app
Points accumulate fairly quickly for me with this app, and I frequently get $5 or $10 off using it. It gives you points for purchases, but also, if you have a fitness tracker, you can get points for steps and other “healthy choices,” if you choose to share that information. Most days I get 20 to 60 points just for walking. 5000 points = $5

Starbucks App
Reward good for one free food item or beverage every 125 points. 2 points per $1 spent, but they also have double points days and various bonuses.


Spring (https://www.springrewards.com/) works well if you go to the same places over and over.  You connect your credit cards, and if you spend a certain amount, for example $200 at a place, you get $10 or $20 back, for example, depending on how the place has structured their promotion. Each place is different.
My Spring promo code: BWKNHE

The best deals are reward points and cash back from credit cards.
I’m getting 1% to 5% of purchases back on those.


Anyone want to do Swagbucks with me?


You Can Get Free Gift Cards For Shopping, Searching and Discovering What's Online at Swagbucks.com

This Hatred We Call Tolerance

This Hatred We Call Tolerance

Two kinds of tolerance:

1) the ability
or willingness
to tolerate something, such as
the existence of opinions or behavior
that one does not necessarily agree with;

2) the capacity to endure
continued subjection
to something
without adverse reaction.

Love your neighbor
as he tries to destroy you
by gathering the troops,
circling the legislative wagons.
Why? Really, why are we obligated
to tolerate those who hate us
and are trying to destroy us? 
Why can't we assert radically
different worldviews,
different vocabularies,
metaphysics? Why are we
obligated to tolerate stupidity?
Why can't we just say,
"You are wrong,
and you are stupid"?

There's no excuse for stupidity and ignorance.
It doesn't matter how you were brought up
or what your parents thought.
Pick up a fucking book. Google it.
Consider a different perspective.

Hate the right people.


Hate Anita Bryant, George Bush, Sarah Palin,
Hitler, Rick Santorum, Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter,
and everyone who makes you want to puke.
It's a free country, right? You should be able
to hate people who make you want to puke.
Because they will hate you, too. Without remorse.
But they won't call it hate.
They'll call it God's commandments
or some other nonsense, appealing
to imaginary authority because
they can't think for themselves.
Or they'll call it tolerance
in self-congratulatory tones,
meaning they find you repulsive,
but aren't they nice to tolerate you.

And we're supposed to tolerate this,
to have respect for their religious beliefs,
when they have absolutely no respect for us.
To deprive someone of their hatred is
to deny their humanity, to deny their right
to be angry at their oppressors.
Hate is strength. Hate is nobility and
pride and standing up for yourself.

This hatred we call tolerance.
Accept everyone, love everyone,
let everyone have their own belief system.
But what if their beliefs are destructive
to your very existence? Or just obviously false?
What if the laws, religious or secular,
deny the legitimacy of your very existence?
Are we supposed to be tolerant?

Tolerance is refusal to think.
Tolerance is a covert putdown.
Tolerance is an euphemism for hatred.

Elizabeth Harper

Hunk a Hunk a Burning Hanukkah

Five years ago the theme for Elizabeth's Crazy Little Thing in December was "Hunk a Hunk a Burning Hanukkah" and I wrote this for that show. Happy Hanukkah, folks!

Hunk a Hunk a Burning Hanukkah 

Lord almighty,
flames from the candles are rising 
Higher higher
for eight nights we'll bask in the glow 

Twirl, twirl, twirl 
Watching the dreidel gyre 
The children are playing 
Which way will it go? 

Our gifts we will admire
Eat latkes hot from the deep fryer 
Light up the evening sky
with the Menorah 

Ooh, ooh, ooh,
Our feelings of joy are arising 
Blessings we're naming 
After all grateful we're alive 
Thriving, thriving, thriving 
And nothing can daunt us
We know how to take a joke 
We laugh, feel fine 

'Cause we live for something higher 
Eat latkes hot from the deep fryer 
Light up the evening sky
with the Menorah 

Love coming closer
Family embraces for everybody 
Judas Maccabee
we will remember on this day 
Love being free
Share our way of believing 

Lord almighty,
We're all going to have our say 
'Cause we live for something higher 
Eat latkes hot from the deep fryer 
Light up the evening sky
with the Menorah
with the Menorah
Candles burning Menorah 

It's a hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah
Join our hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah
Loving that hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah 
Bless our hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah
For eight days a hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah 
Latkes for a hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah
Oh joy, a hunk a hunk a burning Hanukkah 


Elizabeth Harper
To the tune of Elvis Presley's "Burning Love"

So people who know me, or who have ever met me, know that I read a lot and think a lot and ideas stick with me and I like to talk about books I've read in conversation. It's like having a conversation with footnotes! I don't know if people are interested in what I read and think about, but just in case there are people who are interested, I'm trying something new, cautiously dipping my little toe into the water...blogging! Or blogging sort of. Basically I just want to tell people about books, and maybe sometimes what I'm thinking about.

I read Claudia Rankine's book Citizen: An American Lyric a couple of years ago, soon after it came out in 2014. But it has stayed with me. It's prose poetry. It's a moving, intimate description of the experience of being on the receiving end of racism and feeling how it affects you and the people you interact with, friends and strangers. Reading it is an adventure in empathy. Incidents are recounted along with internal, visceral, subjective reactions, thinking and questioning. The reader is taken on a journey of painful experiences accumulating into a kind of heaviness.

Here's a quote from the book:

"The world is wrong. You can't put the past behind you.
 It's buried in you; it's turned your flesh into its own cupboard."

So I'm recommending this book to you, and maybe there is someone in your life you would like to recommend it to. 

Love,

Elizabeth

Elizabeth Harper, Rich Experience and Friends Go to The Store

This Hatred We Call Tolerance read at Cafe Ballou for W4tB 4-16-12

This Hatred We Call Tolerance

Two kinds of tolerance:

1) the ability

or willingness

to tolerate something, such as

the existence of opinions or behavior

that one does not necessarily agree with;

2) the capacity to endure

continued subjection

to something

without adverse reaction.

Love your neighbor

as he tries to destroy you

by gathering the troops,

circling the legislative wagons.

Why? Really, why are we obligated

to tolerate those who hate us

and are trying to destroy us?

Why can't we assert radically

different worldviews,

different vocabularies,

metaphysics? Why are we

obligated to tolerate stupidity?

Why can't we just say,

"You are wrong,

and you are stupid"?

There's no excuse for stupidity and ignorance.

It doesn't matter how you were brought up

or what your parents thought.

Pick up a fucking book. Google it.

Consider a different perspective.

Hate the right people.

Hate Anita Bryant, George Bush, Sarah Palin,

Hitler, Rick Santorum, Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter,

and everyone who makes you want to puke.

It's a free country, right? You should be able

to hate people who make you want to puke.

Because they will hate you, too. Without remorse.

But they won't call it hate.

They'll call it God's commandments

or some other nonsense, appealing

to imaginary authority because

they can't think for themselves.

Or they'll call it tolerance

in self-congratulatory tones,

meaning they find you repulsive,

but aren't they nice to tolerate you.

And we're supposed to tolerate this,

to have respect for their religious beliefs,

when they have absolutely no respect for us.

To deprive someone of their hatred is

to deny their humanity, to deny their right

to be angry at their oppressors.

Hate is strength. Hate is nobility and

pride and standing up for yourself.

This hatred we call tolerance.

Accept everyone, love everyone,

let everyone have their own belief system.

But what if their beliefs are destructive

to your very existence? Or just obviously false?

What if the laws, religious or secular,

deny the legitimacy of your very existence?

Are we supposed to be tolerant?

Tolerance is refusal to think.

Tolerance is a covert putdown.

Tolerance is an euphemism for hatred.

Elizabeth Harper

This is what I think about abortion debates and laws:

It's My Baby (to the tune of "It's My Party")

No one knows where I can go

I'm running out of time

Family and friends are a no-show

Why is my body the site of a crime?

It's my baby, and I'll kill it if I want to

Kill it if I want to, kill it if I want to

You would kill it too if pregnancy was forced on you

Weighing my options, keep thinking all night

Leave me alone for now

Unless you know who can help,

Who's got the wherewithal and know-how

It's my baby, and I'll kill it if I want to

Kill it if I want to, kill it if I want to

You would kill it too if pregnancy was forced on you

Police and social workers busting through the doors

Fascists with guns and expertise

Ignore plaintive cries

Treat me like a social disease

It's my baby, and I'll kill it if I want to

Kill it if I want to, kill it if I want to

You would kill it too if pregnancy was forced on you

Elizabeth Harper

poem read for Overman at The Horseshoe 2-26-11

Overman

She took too much heroin
Don't think that's a bad thing, she said.
I hear voices singing me lullabies.
I feel the history of the world,
evolution of ideas and memes and genes,
coursing through my veins at lightning speed.
I am kings and queens and princesses
and madmen and beggars and scientists.
I am free. I know the world is grander
than those that play by the rules say.
I don't need to be anything I can't be.
I don't need to kill all the flowers
blooming and taking flight inside of me.
Things in the past I can forget, leave behind
as they fade away and disintegrate,
shot through with fireworks and confetti
and silly string and collapsing mitochondria
and smashed tv sets, a trillion pixels shooting
through space, making their escape, living free.
I've found a road to take free of my mistakes


Elizabeth Harper


The first and last lines in italics are quotes from Overman songs, "Princess" and "Sweet Escape," respectively.

Poem read at Heartland Cafe July 8

In My Dreams

In my dreams. Get down to the truth. What are you waiting for. Hurt is the only way to get there. Where you’re trying to go. Where you’ll never get. Is she prettier than me? What makes the world so? It keeps going and going. I lose pieces of me in the scenery. Slacker wish list: an ice cream rainbow radiating out of a cornucopia of lost loves, forgotten dreams, abandoned jobs. Churning endlessly trying to get utopia to rise to the top. Writing a new poem every day only to lose oneself digging through dumpsters for scraps of old love letters trying to explain the meaning of …anything. Does he look like prince charming or just another alcoholic, spendthrift slob? Hey, even prince charming, when you find him, most likely has a day job and a substance abuse problem. The mind wanders and comes back to itself. What, did you forget milk and bread again? Why don’t you make a list? Oh, a lot of good it does folded up in that back jean pocket you use as a filing cabinet. Where are those obsessive-compulsive tendencies when you need them? Obliviousness will get you only so far, and once you get there, you won’t know where you are. To stave off anxiety, you do all sorts of things your mother and public service adds warn you against. Stocking up on band-aids and anti-aging creams. What will they think of next to fill wrinkles up with. Some stuff called “spackle.” Your face is your house. Paint it up so it will appeal to prospective buyers. Designed to sell. The Home and Garden channel. Cosmetic infomercials. We’re all about building equity here, ladies. And gender politics are so boring. Why don’t we just cut off all the penises, preserve them as dildos, and be done with it? It’s emotional neediness that keeps us hooked, keeps us hoping, keeps us trying. So maybe it’s good to long for an unrealizable ideal, a perfect object deserving of perfect love and unending devotion, while we’re munching down on a bowl of popcorn in front of the TV, eyes glued to the Lifetime channel. The jury’s still out. Maybe I’ll switch to Law and Order. Of course, it’s fascist, and yet strangely comforting. There’s always some kind of resolution even though there were false leads and dead ends along the way.

"I Didn't Like Being in Love Anyway" read at Jaks 5-4-09

I Didn't Like Being in Love Anyway


It's alright. I didn't like being in love anyway.
The way I'd look at you with total devotion and admiration.
Getting excited and happy by every phone call, email,
conversation, kiss, touch. Telling you everything on my mind,
reading your poems, showing you mine. Who needs that kind of closeness,
intimacy, involvement with another person. It's bound to get messy. Hell,
it was scaring the shit out of me.


It's alright. I didn't want a baby anyway.
I'd have to find a place to put it. They cry and drool.
So noisy so messy so needy so happy about the simplest things.

I like being alone. Take-out Chinese and anything I want to watch on TV.
There's always new people to meet, to keep at a cordial distance,
to hide from while smiling.

"She's Not What She Appears to Be" because I had a request and also I just read "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde"

She’s Not What She Appears to Be


Jasmine knew that evil lurked in every pore of her being. She knew that everyone would be truly horrified if they knew how she felt, what she thought. The way she’d fantasize about torturing and killing the most helpless creatures—little white kittens and small children. She would do it slowly, savoring each and every moment, every cut of the knife and the patterns on their flesh that she would trace in blood. But Jasmine couldn’t help what she was. After all, one enjoys what one enjoys. One feels the way one feels, and there’s no way to change it. Reason told Jasmine that her deepest and truest desires were impervious to reason. But she knew that she would have to keep herself hidden, always. Some people were shy and introverted, but then they would gradually show themselves, let little parts of their personalities show, let themselves be seen, even, eventually known by someone. For Jasmine, this was not an option. She could never be known or seen. For if she was, she would be destroyed, just like a vampire in an old-fashioned horror movie hunted down by frenzied villagers. She knew she would never be loved for who she was.

So, in order to survive, Jasmine would have to keep herself hidden all the time, even from herself. At first she seemed introverted, not revealing very much of herself. But soon people would become suspicious. They would suspect that she had another life that she hid. They were suspicious of someone that would not reveal themselves even a little. So Jasmine had to reveal little bits of a personality, share little facts about her likes and dislikes, her habits and hobbies. But she had to be very careful that what she revealed in no way indicated what she truly was. She realized that she would have to construct an entirely new persona for herself, somebody totally unlike herself, somebody that she would always have to appear to be.

Jasmine was selfish and cruel, so she would have to act as if she was the exact opposite. She practiced showing consideration for others, putting their needs and preferences before hers. She took up volunteer work: serving at soup kitchens, tutoring underprivileged children, visiting burn victims in hospitals. But of course, though she pretended to be motivated by sympathy and altruism, she secretly enjoyed witnessing the poverty, witless stupidity, and deformity of others—though she never let on to others or herself. She gave money to charities, but of course not all that she could have, because she had her secret selfish desires to feed, and that took money.

She dated, because she had insatiable sexual desires and a need to dominate and hurt people. But she didn’t let her dates know that. She pretended that she wanted marriage and a family and to be taken care of by a big, strong, capable man who would keep her in her place. In truth she had only contempt for all of that, but she went through the motions, asking to be fixed up by friends and placing wholesome, conventional personal ads in the local paper. The trick was to get rid of the hapless dupes whom she ruthlessly used for sex and the pleasure of humiliating them without letting them know what had really happened. She managed to do this in various ways: by giving elaborate versions of the “It’s not you, it’s me speech,” being busy with altruistic pursuits, causes, charities, pretend friends and invented family responsibilities, or seeming fucked-up in an irredeemable but adorable way, such as being emotionally wounded, or ambitious and driven, but for a noble goal.

Eventually she married. She manipulated her husband in order to have free reign with the credit cards for her extravagant shopping sprees, while keeping him convinced that she was the most wonderful, virtuous person in the world so that he would continue to worship her and she could continue to keep him at an emotional distance. She did this by continuing with her charities and being a generous gift giver, and also spending an inordinate amount of time on her appearance so he would always be in awe of her pulchritude. Eventually they had children, and she was a perfect mother and a model citizen. In actuality she hated her children and imagined torturing them in various ways including tearing them limb from limb while they screamed in pain and suffocating them under piles of writhing and venomous snakes. Her children knew nothing of this and adored her and believed that she adored them. They grew up into successful adults with a healthy amount of self-esteem and a sense of ethical responsibility. When she was on her death bed she was surrounded by her loving family. And as they held her hand and wept over her, she hated them as she always had. She died without anyone ever knowing who she truly was. In a way, she had succeeded in the use of her life strategy. In another way, maybe not.

"Looking for a New Way to Break It" because I feel like it

Looking for a New Way to Break It

Rifling through old emotions,
thinking, this same old shit again,
isn’t there any way
to get out to get over to get away
come up with a new play
in this old game dressed up
like it’s something new.

You’ve been through this before.
It’s an old song and you know
the song is as sick of you
as you are of it. How many ways
can you say: I’m tired, I’m hurt,
I’m lonely, and I’m sad. I’m angry,
foaming at the mouth, looking for
a place for my fist to hit. And
I would wish for love but I know
I couldn’t take it, my heart
always looking for that someone
to come up with a new way to break it.

"Waiting for Spring" read at Trace 3-24-09

Waiting for Spring


Jumbo-legged anarchists, kindly giants, bitchy and bovine in their ways, make their way past storefronts overfilled with stereos and knickknacks, gewgaws of late capitalism, incense and condoms in all different colors, assorted flavors. I am your whipping boy, but it's all just pretend. My heart has been broken so many times it doesn't bother to mend. And when will you show me the way to Prince Charming. Am I forever to be slipping on banana peels, falling in the snow, in the freezing rain, in the mud, humiliated by the eye-scorching sun. You humble me. The coins fall through the hole in my pocket one by one. I am not a record player. Play your own accordion. Master scrabble and monopoly and staggering in the dark.

And all my non sequiturs fall on deaf ears and unsoiled panties. My only friend is the piano player playing all alone in the dark, cigarettes lighting burning ash, Jack Daniel's on the rocks. Where my thoughts meet the sharp glass edge of a flat world reflecting mirrors, synthetic plant life. Just as you called my name, I saw a giraffe, her long tongue reaching for a leaf, her eyes partially closed in enjoyment? Memorize anecdotes, long-winded and peppered with caricatures unwillingly coerced into making you look larger than life or science fiction concoctions bubbling over with narcotic side effects and new hairstyles. Left behind are incoherent memories, days you wished you had soup but there wasn't any, and the walls were too plain. Where were the posters of rock stars dripping sweat onto ecstatic but disconcerted audience members?

Foggy-headed super heroes flying over skyscrapers tall and lean, gleaming and mean, forget their lunches, lose their hunches about what could have and should have and might have been. I'm just another rock and roll addict, crazy lady in the attic, in the palace you can no longer call home. When you call me, don't forget how vulnerable I am. How I fall apart like a jigsaw puzzle, and the dog chews some pieces and hides some others under the couch. Play my game your way. Leave me in the cold on the sidewalk in the dark. Sex toys, brightly colored dildoes adorned with flashing Christmas lights, seek me out, put me on display, make me feel at home like the spaceship of aliens from my home planet coming for me at last.

I know there is no home, not for very long anyway. Things change too fast and where are you and who am I? Little mice are talking. They're taking trips to new places and changing colors. He said, "I wish I had penises in different colors, shooting semen in different colors. I could paint as I came."

Wherever you are, I'm someplace else, and there's the rub. The crowded pub, the substandard grub, the back aching to be rubbed. I'd be someone if I wasn't so self-absorbed. I never get used to "I don't care," no matter how true it is. Rent me a spaceship; lend me a lipstick. I'm ready to roll with the punches; do abdominal crunches; steal the lunches of school children. Mesmerized victims of sudden and inexplicable pangs of paranoia huddle and grapple with difficult and self-defeating philosophical concepts amongst themselves.

And at the playground, there are used condoms and cigarette butts and empty beer bottles and fast food wrappers partially buried in the snow, awaiting a toddler treasure hunt. And the Easter Bunny can't help being an alcoholic.

Poem read at Weeds 3-9-09 "Messed Up on a Friday"

Messed Up on a Friday

Messed up. Took my night meds in the morning because I was tired and in a hurry and didn't know what the fuck I was doing and was trying to blend a protein shake into yesterday's cold coffee, but it wouldn't dissolve so I tried the electric hand mixer and then the Cuisinart. And then it worked but it took too long and then I was worried the night meds would make me sleepy or act high during the day and I had to stand up all day and be nice to people and act like I cared when I just wanted to be in bed masturbating and sleeping.

Messed up. Told him I liked him when I know I should play aloof, like I don't care and I'd be so much better off if I didn't care. How I hate being in love. It makes me crazy and sick, mesmerized by erotic daydreams. I have to pick and poke at it like I'm trying to pop a zit, like getting all the built up white pus out of there will make it better, but it just makes me feel wounded and ugly and then I have to wait for it to heal, washing it over and over again, covering it with makeup.

Messed up. Told my boss what I thought. How am I supposed to avoid expressing any opinion at all while at the same time appearing to have opinions and good ideas and insights to show that I'm a valuable team player, but not a real person with an actual point of view? Someone tell me, please. Maybe I'm just not a good actress. But it's just that saying things I don't believe makes me confused. I can hear people inside my head contradicting everything I say as I'm saying it. Sadistic stereo, demonic radio, rapist TV.

Messed up. Believed what I was told, because, really, constant skepticism and cynicism is exhausting, not to mention depressing and soul-destroying. On the other hand, being a sap, a dupe, a sucker isn't fun either, because when the sham is exposed or the gimmick doesn't work or you're worse off than before, you think somehow that you're responsible, that you should have know better, been smarter, shrewder, on the lookout for con artists. But you just wanted to believe that something good could happen.

Poem read at Weeds 3-9-09 "A Change of Life Comes Suddenly and Without Warning"

A Change of Life Comes Suddenly and Without Warning

hot flash news flash cold cash in the pocket of my jeans you don't know what I mean you don't know what I've seen come clean I wish I could

doe ray me fat sow la-di-dah language in the freezer far to cold to hold to measure ice-cream suitcases melting away postponing travel for another day

come up and see me sometime come please me sometime anytime day or night make me feel right there's something I'm trying to learn only you can teach me

she's hiding in the doorway she hears him singing I did it my way she's wondering what part she has to play in a solipsistic song of love

she's listening for her cues looking for clues trying to discern different hues of meaning but what she's gleaning isn't gleaming merely convoluted scheming

will you stand tall through it all pondering what you're seeing and is it worth keeping is it worth knowing or would it be better to keep throwing it all away

jesus christ saved my ass tonight saved my life tonight though I am never believing it's just convenience what to go on without any evidence or anything else to hold onto

tatterdemalion ragamuffin foresight penchant for dynamite ask not don't tell there is a well of silence only the guileless are fearing or hearing

come all ye merry gentlemen may nothing you see dismay our whore was born before time went still and she's here to steal your mind away

light up the night embrace your plight as on your way to hell you go it's never too late to repent but you might as well be proud you put on one hell of a show

Poem read at Weeds 3-9-09 "I'm Coming Over to Your House to Play"

I'm Coming Over to Your House to Play

I'm chopping off the heads,
chopping off the arms and legs.
I've got the china and glass knickknacks
set up like bowling pins and I'm using
the severed heads as bowling balls
to knock them down to hear them
crash and shatter into little sharp bits.
I'm going to use the limbs like hockey sticks
to push the family pets around the room
and then to beat their skulls in.
I'm going to do this in every house I visit
until I'm tired and go home to sleep.

Murder is freedom
Politeness is pain

If you hurt me, if you get in my way,
I'll take what I want from you,
and after I fuck you up,
I'll beat in your brain.

You think I'm angry.
You don't know.
I'm filled with rage.
I'm putting on a show.

Madness is brilliance
Conformity is shame

I'm not following
the rules anymore.
Now everyone is going
to remember my name.

What's this about you ask?
You haven't got a clue.
Fear and stupidity keep you stuck
as if you were slathered with glue.

Have I made you gag yet?
Come on, what's taking so long?
I'll shove my strap-on dick
down your throat until you throw-up.
Spewing chunks makes such a
comforting sound.

Where's your Mommy, you ask?
Oh don't you know?
She never really existed.
Sister and brother left
as soon as they could.
Daddy was just a clown.

Family is folly
Death is relief

Torture will make me jolly
Complacency is a thief

Any final wishes?
You don't know what to choose.
What you want is so far from what's possible
you might as well take a permanent snooze.

Poem I read for the slam at Green Mill 3-8-09

I’ve Got a Hard-On for Jesus


I’ve got a hard-on for Jesus.

Early, early on in my childhood
psychosexual development,
before Shaun Cassidy
and John Travolta,
even before Davy Jones and
wanting to be a live-in
housekeeper/ sex-slave
for all The Monkees,
there was Jesus.

He looked so cool in the pictures
with his long chestnut hair and beard.
And he was such a genuinely nice guy, too.
The first famous anarchist-feminist,
yet so misunderstood.
And who wouldn’t go for a guy
helpless and pinned on a cross.
S & M, here I come.
Hey Jesus, I’ll wash your feet,
and suck your cock, too!

Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell
are my porn. I could come watching
a 20-something Victor Garber
dancing around and singing
in a Superman t-shirt.

I would get up early
to go to Sunday school,
even in the coldest Chicago winters,
and my daddy would take me,
so I could learn about Jesus and
read the bible and write poems and
do projects in papier-mâché.

I’d fantasize about meeting Jesus
in real life on the street.
I’d invite him in to have hot chocolate and
John’s frozen cheese pizzas.
I really thought this could happen
since Jesus looked a lot like the guys on Clark street
my dad would point out to me as heroin addicts.
But this worried me, too.
What if my folks wouldn’t let Jesus come over
because they thought he was a long-haired, hippie,
freaked-out heroin addict?
I was really worried that I would come across Jesus
and that he would be turned away.
Especially since I knew that we were soul mates
and that I really understood Jesus and
we were destined to be together forever and
just the thought of him made me feel all tingly
in my special place in my underpants.

This was probably the beginning of my realization
that adults were hypocritical liars
with reputations and property to protect.
They didn’t really want me fucking Jesus,
even if, in a way, they said they did.

Jesus loves me!
The bible tells me so!
He loves all the little children!
I love Jesus!
The bible tells me to!
I want him inside me!
So I’ll never be alone!

Poem I read at the Green Mill open mic 3-8-09

Porno Movie

We’re gonna make a porno movie,
me and all my friends.
Gonna make a porno movie
‘cause we’ve got credit card debts
we’ve got to pay.

Why should we work
when we can get paid for getting laid?
Better than working shit jobs:
telemarketer, waitress, maid.

We’re all feeling so hot.
It doesn’t have to have a plot,
just the right lighting and decor.

Johnny’s got the props:
some whips, some cutlery,
some mayonnaise.

Julie’s renting the hotel suite.
There’s a pool and room service,
a game room and a soda machine.

Lily’s doing a handstand.
Billy’s got her by the ankles.
Jody’s wearing the dildo.
Cindy’s in shackles.

Ben’s got the paddle.
Margaret’s going to get a spanking.
We’re all having such fun.
We’re not even acting.

Ours will be the best porno movie ever
because we like each other so much.
We’re all so sexy, witty, and clever.
We swoon at every touch
and melt in each other’s mouths.

We’re gonna make a porno movie,
me and all my friends.
Gonna make a porno movie.
‘cause we’ve got credit card debts
we’ve got to pay.

Poem from LSfP I read at Trace 3-3-09

I Like to See Men Kiss


I like to see men kiss:
mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue,
comradely, yet personal,
tenderly like lesbian lovers.
It makes me feel good—
vicariously I suppose:
a big sigh of relief,
as if everything could be
all right with the world,
instead of feeling the inevitable doom
I feel when a woman,
telling me how
her husband hit her
on the head with a pistol
and the blood spurted out
and she had to have fourteen stitches
and she’s never been the same
and she can’t remember
sometimes, can’t think clearly,
has migraines and cries
for no reason,
when she says,
“And then I thought
to myself, ‘This is
what I get for being
so nice to you
and staying married to you
for nine years
and giving you two children?’”
You see, he had been sent
to Vietnam,
and after that he was never the same.
And in July he shot his girlfriend,
and then he shot himself.

The new poem I read at Trace 3-3-09

I Fall in Love with Difficult People

I fall in love with difficult people.
I can't help it. Anyone who is easily
angered, easily bothered, quick to fight,
quick to hold a grudge, I find
utterly fascinating, charming.
Maybe it's because they're mysterious
to me. I wonder, why get so riled up,
why pick a fight, when you could just
as easily let it go, be at peace with the world.
It must be because they can't, and I know
their anger, their frustration is righteous,
that their difficult personality is a symptom
of their intelligence and sensitivity. And
somehow I must think it's my job to love
these people, who cringe at every
imperfection, mistake, faux pas, falsehood,
injustice and rail against all the general
ugliness and stupidity of the world,
domineering and emotionally needy at the same time.