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Moral Dilemmas at Harvard
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191044
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"a.k.a. I-D-I-O-T" (The Hives).
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I am going to quit clicking refresh, only because it is clear nothing is happening out there. After I click refresh just one more time, that is, and then I am closing the window. After clicking one more last time. …
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First it makes me think about the time I held a live, albeit tranquilized, juvenile gator at a zoo in Florida when I was twelve. (Somewhere these's a photograph, no doubt, of me looking terrified and a gator looking asleep.)
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...as a boy I rode once in an elevator with Colonel Sanders...
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13154
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it rained so hard it flooded our tent and our sleeping bags were floating
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100253
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They borrowed birds from the trees
And forced me to sing along with them
You could say they made my heart burn
But we all know some of that was fake
It was a direct route
From sleep walking
To sleep shopping
To this
I guess I lived a
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The memory fades so quickly, It makes me wonder if it ever really happened? Then I have to create something new from scratch to fill the space Yeah, there are patterns, and sudden movements that pass for recollections, but couldn't they as…
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Lullaby for a dragon baby who breaks the bough with bottled fists escapes the armored cradle stealing swords from terra cotta men to slash the Ming canopy and loose the butterflies that will free
Ho Chi Minh from the fire.
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122564
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x ≥ ponds rise beyond where you & i have stood
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I think I’ll get a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, one I’ll regret. I’ll catch people peering at it, trying to interpret the twists and swirls of the black ink on my fair skin.
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They have their own homes to fill with bought and sold dreams. Their own babies to care for and feed. The world is big enough to have more layers than you can ever imagine. The lights will show you a way when you have turned too dark for your own…
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The world is slick as alabaster, taking the guesswork out of the rain. Junction Road moves like thick grease under the tires of my '89 Skyhawk. The old car's making a clicking noise somewhere underneath the high-beam switch and the damn…
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God’s hearing aid is missing
And apparently needs an enormous battery
But no one has the
heart to tell Him
because who wants to be
shouting at God?
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Through the window, I see the police. Lots of them, trampling down the blackberry brambles. Something reeks.
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Valeria never whistled. Nor did she approve of people who did. One thing she had learned in her sixty-seven years was that people who whistled were crass. Butchers whistled. So did peasants.
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That contraption he’d invited her to pedal, somebody oughta market one of those. The closer you got the harder it got, and her feet kept slipping off the pedals. It was maddening.
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There was a time when she could quell the loathing that Fred inspired in her. She could force it down. Back then, for instance, when they’d been in counseling, the ball of hatred had only been a little, overripe orange - squishy and occasionally mushed
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“Gladys Miller!” the dog shouted. “Live a little. TiVo it.”
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You were watching TV when it began. That much is obvious, since you have always watched TV on Thursday nights, and Thursday was when it began for everyone in Polisville. Around 11 PM, a train on its way to a Nevada landfill jumped the tracks. It's a secure landfill, and the…
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When I arrived in heaven
Calling out your name
Running just on vapor
Leaving my old flames
I thought I saw you singing
Dripping from all sides
Crying like a rainbow
Reliving our old lives
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Jojo dolls & basketballs
a mindflex & pick-up sticks
Parcheesi and—no, not Parcheesi
a supersoaker, a Care Bear
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The first engine arrived and a fireman heavy with gear stumbled from the side railing.
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In the neon light and barroom shadows,
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But what “is” retirement? All of the previous sections in a life are full of detailed descriptions. But “retirement” is somehow left rather vague. One would think that retirement would be the long-awaited GOAL of life. But instead we are left with the
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84553
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Communism
Capitalism
Gism or Gysm, either way
Avoid anything with an Ism
Catholicism
Botulism
Socialism
Skepticism
If its got an Ism in it
Avoid it, okay?
(Advice for our newborn daughter)
Avoidalism is okay
Though
So you c
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I dreamt I was Vermeer
For just a little while
I took this photo of a criminal
A mugshot really
And claimed I had painted it
From memories of a previous life
He looked just like a Vermeer
With the light coming in
From the side of his fac
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Rhonda looks guilty as it is, don’t you think? That hair! And the unhappiness smeared across her face like war paint after a war.
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It performs the dialectic that intertwines real and ideal through her mounting concern about being choked to death then eaten by a very large pig.
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