She was nice enough to leave a comment, so I’m sort of returning the favor, I suppose.
I like comments. I really do.
The oldest and most obscure weblog. Probably. Lovingly maintained and neglected by Shawn Kilburn.
She was nice enough to leave a comment, so I’m sort of returning the favor, I suppose.
I like comments. I really do.
last night the moon was
glooming through the old
maple outside my window
or perhaps cedar or oak
or dogwood or mulberry, but
you see I’m no good with
trees. their leaves and barks
and shapes stand tall and
crooked or round or short
or thin–are ever in
mind, but their names
might as well be butter-
milk.
i always–when waking–
find myself to be in strange
and different places the
thingummy along different lines
than these otherwise calico
and maddening thrusts of
colour cascadeling
sideways through my
eye sockets. the red glare
these days of a thousand
rubbing nights when
pale sheets cling hungrily
to legs and flesh and the
whole body-body is coated
with am as it were, filmy
sheen of sweat or perspiration
or as it were dampness
and so these bedclothes–
so to speak–become
twisted in the knotted heat
and belaboured dreams that
beat at the heart of
my nightly nights
Rumsfeld is very scary to me; his affect is so commonsensical; scarily intelligent. It gets me every time. I find it difficult not to respect, even though I’m otherwise inclined to dislike the man. His hands are too dirty re: the Middle East. (He was Special Presidential Envoy to the Middle East in 1983-84. Not a good time for me to trust anyone hanging out in the Middle East.)
unlike these thoughts before,
a quiet desperation–sadness!–
drifts through the annals, the
scattered tomes of the mind,
Alexandria’s burned and the
card catalog is missing.
soulness
Public Library of Science: Open Access
In essence, open source science journals. C would be especially interested in the Genome Biology journal.
Very commonsensical, methinks. It’s also a quick read, which is a plus.
oh to be a man without a
string, oh to be a clam
without a dream, oh to
be a can without a lid,
or a cane without a
skin, a foor without a shoe
or bat without some glue
or cat without a puckered
safety hat
riddle me this what’s cold
and left out in the cold
and sold and bold and
grown old with all these
better
when we haven’t grown when we