I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman -- I have detested you long enough. I come to you as a spoiled child Who has a flatulent companion; I am old enough now to forgive. Still; it was you that broke wind, Now is a time for confessing. We have one mother, stern and grave -- She alone knows we are brothers.
My twisted back with the torn muscle is healing more slowly than I would like and laughing at this (both of these, actually), which are very funny, isn't helping my recovery.
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A letter to the editor from surgical oncologist Michael Baum, on how
*Arcadia* by Tom Stoppard, who died last week at 88, inspired a valuable
new hypothe...
The Way Alone Feels
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Every writer needs a little inspiration once in a while. For today’s
prompt, create a flash piece that captures the way loneliness feels.
The post The Wa...
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I'm supposed to be driving to Monson this afternoon, but likely I won't be
because we've got a winter storm warning and up to eight inches of snow
foreca...
Degrees of Freedom
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… they could not play the piano. This is from Invention and Evolution:
Design in Nature and Engineering, 2nd Edition, by Michael French (1994): …
You may f...
Justice in Hell
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Epstein’s “Lolitta Express” airliner carried male and female sex slave
minors. Pubescent girls and boys to be used as wealthy perverts’ toys. The
other pas...
Stay away from the pool
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My mother & I were visiting a friend of hers who was living in an apartment
complex that I regarded at the time as positively palatial, what for the
commun...
In Memory of Ed Ochester, Poet & Editor, RIP
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We have asked Ed Ochester (above) to edit our Sunday poetry pages for the
next few months. Here is one of Ed's poems: March of the Penguins The
editor of N...
“In spite of all the learned have said ...”
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Philip Freneau
Philip Freneau (1752-1852) was a journalist and poet in the early years our
country was forming. And, oh, by the way, I once wrote an under...
Balance is important in design
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo
ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis Theme natoque penatibus et
magnis dis ...
Proof of Life
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Um, hello? Is this thing on?
I am writing from the Central Time Zone, as we have officially moved to
Oxford, Mississippi for the academic year! And I have ...
Lana K. W. Austin
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Lana K. W. Austin’s poems, short stories, and reviews have recently been
featured in *Mid-AmericanReview, Sou’wester, Columbia Journal, Zone 3,
Appalachia...
The translucent veil of life
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Haha, so the truth comes out. Having 2 children is A LOT more work than 1!
I haven't been able to get out of the rocking chair more than a few
moment...
On the move
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*Gal about town, photo by Bob Perkoski*
Dear readership,
Your humble hostess has been doing a whole lot of what is depicted in
today's photo: walking aro...
Strawberry Month
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The strawberry sweets at Lagusta's Luscious this month are insane! I
missed out last year and decided that this year I would take full
advantage.
I luck...
AWP in Minneapolis, and recommended reading
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Again I've been away from this blog longer than I'd intended. Much busy
with writing, and reading, and life in general.
I'll be attending the annual AWP co...
Remixing the World's Problems Results
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The one thing about judging poetry is that it often takes me much longer
than I expect. For everyone who has waited so patiently for me to get these
result...
In a Landscape - The Playlist
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John Cage, “In a Landscape”
Bob Dylan, “My Back Pages”
Neil Young, “Ambulance Blues”
The Twilight Zone Theme
Babylon 5 Theme
Simon & Garfunkel, “Richard Co...
2 comments:
I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman --
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a spoiled child
Who has a flatulent companion;
I am old enough now to forgive.
Still; it was you that broke wind,
Now is a time for confessing.
We have one mother, stern and grave --
She alone knows we are brothers.
My twisted back with the torn muscle is healing more slowly than I would like and laughing at this (both of these, actually), which are very funny, isn't helping my recovery.
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