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Politics for Poets

You can always have

Freedom!

Everybody knows

All ya need is Love

Baltimore is where Edgar Alan Poe is burried. I've never been there. Someone used to bring him a bottle of something every year on his birthday but I heard that no one is doing it anymore. I amure that Mr. Poe is just a well either way.

June 10, 2013 (6-10-2013)

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

content goes stale and making it spin just makes it suck even more if it really does suck. If the content is anygood unless the spining has some function it might become quickly tiring.

~ OK Now.

Banish Nonsense was his scree. I'd have to delete this whole website!

It was cold in the room. He felt alone. He had lost his shoes. He felt around for them on the cold floor, putting his hand into gew. He didn't know what it was. But it was just a dream. Thankfully just a dream

Praise God!

"If you setup things to work for you and then you try to live your life in automatic mode, you are not ever going to get away with it. Things just don't proceed in that manner. At some point you have to move forward and do something for someone somewhere and make them care enough to pay you for it." Darin told Dickie.

"Or I am the guy who does that for other people." says Dickie. "I'm holding out till I'm that guy."

Darin surveys Dickie now. The light of the late day harbour is billowing off the giant storm clouds on the far horizon, far enough away and going in a different direction as to not be a problem now, but in a couple of hours, maybe some rough seas? Dickie was the kind that he might just get away with it. He'd never have to lower himself into the grinder while the HR wench turns the handle. Dickie would never submit to the dehumanization of a factory job where they vaccuum you as you enter and as you leave the facility. And requre that you give all you social media passwords.

The light was softer then. The hum of the cabin as the yaught motors forward gave Darin a warm glow. It was chilly up on deck, but from here they could see it all and be warm. "You're my hero, you know that.?" he tells his friend.

"Don't be a jerk." is how Dickie replied.

I think of Copel. 
It is on the sea. 
it is a ruin.
It is made of brick.
Why did they make the brick?
Who was it that laid it?
 who was it that paid?
where are they buried?
     where is their song played?

See the pretty lights
  
   Down the Shore
    Down Wind
  Downtown
    With the sound
    of the boardwalk
  and the young mothers talking
  about the construction and
     what kind of suntan
     oil prices getting a little
   higher over on the better beach
   the young man is selling
         hotdogs on a bun with
     chilli on the side 
          3 ninety five
    down the Parkway all the way
          to that big sweeping
      bridge that spans
     the time from the start
  to the end
       Bayridge views of an estuary it
    goes in twelve miles and snakes between
  the salt marshes and the
         chemical plants made
  for plastic in the grandmothers
      old plastic vase all
 moldy now somone
  had put the plastic flowers back here
       in the early 1960's when
      someone would have thought
   they were nice, new.
    New construction. New 
      make it all new.
   it will make the news.
        she really likes the shoes.
 
  Praise God!
  








Wake up!



"Apple Dappery? What the . . . does that mean?"

Very sad about bear that need to be put down, not really funny but . . . so we don't all die of sadness . . . for some reason I have made a parady about this which I share in an earlier coloumn. So look for that. You can see the arrow, now it is blue, that lets you go to an earlier column..