Life Quotes
I used to work with this guy back in the day. Loony as a bird. But once in a while something would come out of Continue reading
Category Archives: Expressive Rhythmic Literary Work
A blue bike and a thumbtack
The thumb tack was pushed into her front tire, the tire and bike were both blue, it was a lady’s frame. Her tire was flat. Continue reading
The Kinetic Cathartic
Ladies & Gentlemen, meet Senna. He writes. I post. You read. The Kinetic Cathartic part I Where the castle once stood no less, a castle Continue reading
A short break from the study of law
I’ve been thinking more lately about cycling. About bicycles. About me. Actually riding bikes. I used to, you know. Once. Upon a time. I rode Continue reading
Men with popped collars
Men with popped collars I am surrounded by men with popped collars. Burberry, Polo, and Lacoste. Fear not I am near them, not of them. Continue reading
Rhapsody on a Windy Night. T.S. Eliot
Rhapsody on a Windy Night T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) Twelve o’clock. Along the reaches of the street Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations Dissolve Continue reading
He got his
I’ll have to start remembering the actual cross streets for these fun little stories I’ve been dutifully transcribing upon these vaulted pages. This morning I Continue reading
It came in with the wind
Hey, it looks like Thursday to me. And that means it’s time for some poetry. From: Charlie S. Subject: Poem whoa, dropped a bean where’d Continue reading
Today’s random offering
Library, again. Within your bosom, I view this confine of law by
What is and what does…
I get the weirdest email. All the “wanna bigger penis?” ones plus “pain meds!” and the like. Some offer no text other than the nonsense Continue reading
Value of improvement to property
Value of improvement to property Laying flat on my back on the kitchen floor with my hands on my face. Steve Earl playing “Poncho & Continue reading
A poem by any other name…
…is still a poem. Found this one last week and thought I’d share. You know, because I can. Handymen By Cornelius Eady The furnace wheezes Continue reading