According to Google

According to Google

I can never understand why . . .

people like to talk metaphorically.
anyone would want to come to my house.
a person from England cannot get in my car and drive with out messing up.
Spielberg never re-released it in the cinemas for the 20th or the 25th anniversary.
people bother smoking.
my mother never left him.
a woman would want a man back who had done her so wrong.
people of his quality can be out of the game for as long as he was.
people assume that everyone knows where to find the pics they reference.
he lies to me.
some men seem to get so much pleasure out of looking at what they know they will never touch.
it isn't busier, as you can really taste the difference, especially when it comes to freshness.
they do some of the things they do.
parents don’t teach their children how to answer the phone, speak properly, politely, and clearly into the mouthpiece, and to write down all messages, even if from relatives.
God would have spared a poor Finnish girl when all those rich people drowned.
people set out to make victims of others.
I still want you.
a young man who has a full head of hair shaves it all off.
some people actually prefer their coffee black.
some aspiring authors can't see writing as any other kind of work.
satanists follow this spiritual prick, when they know that he hates them with a passion and that he only wants their souls to burn along with him on Judgement Day and for the rest of eternity.
people want to read anything at all about writers.

Digital Sushi

Digital Sushi

I can remember
a lost boy at the back door
too afraid to knock

~~~

sunshine chilled by wind
truck tires spin on an ice patch
I need strong coffee

~~~

the marble pillars
seem to touch the passing clouds
in a bad painting

Quotes of the Day

Quotes of the Day

They will declare: Every journey has been taken.
You shall respond: I have not been to see myself.

They will insist: Everything has been spoken.
You shall reply: I have not had my say.

They will tell you: Everything has been done.
You shall reply: My way is not complete.
--Alexandros Evangelou Xenopouloudakis

We believe that labels are important, but mostly for bottles of wine.
--Christo and Jeanne-Claude

The Advertising Slogan Generator

"Gee, your Twists and Turns smells terrific"

Got something to sell? Try the Advertising Slogan Generator.

Random Acts of Poetry

Random Acts of Poetry

He Married a Mermaid

He married a mermaid
who caught him like a fish
in her tangle of seaweed.

He married a mermaid
and gave every sand dollar
to his chicken of the sea.

He married a mermaid,
and they played with the dolphins
at the edge of a whirlpool.

He married a mermaid,
and her salty kisses
dissolved his tomorrows.

He married a mermaid
and ignored the pale men
floating in her wake.

He married a mermaid
and drifted ever further out to sea
while tiny scales grew over his eyes.

He married a mermaid
whose love songs
were the cause of many a shipwreck.

He married a mermaid
whose embrace was an undertow
dragging him down to airless depths.

He married a mermaid,
but he was always alone.
No mortal woman dared intrude on their reef of dreams.

Word of the Day: gammerstang

Word of the Day

gammerstang (n)

A tall, awkward woman

"Every gammerstang needs her Pygmalion," suggested Mr. Bosthoon, as Phoenicia glared down at him.

Snow and more snow

Dig It

I've spent much of the day shoveling the same patch of snow over and over again. It reminds me of the myth of Sisyphus -- you know, that ancient Greek fellow who was condemned to roll a stone up a hill, only to have it roll back down again, over and over. The snow just keeps on falling in thick curtains, rendering every object obese and white. The only thing I like about it is the way it sparkles. I remember as a kid trying to find the diamonds in the snow.

Here's a short story I wrote (and won a contest with) about digging my car out of the snow:

Snow in the City

Word of the Day: Salmagundi

Word of the Day

salmagundi (n)

A mixture or assortment; a medley; a potpourri; a miscellany

Clive, an inveterate packrat, lived amidst a heaping salmagundi of inutile junk.

Idiot Wind

Quote of the Day

"Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull,
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe . . .

You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies."
--Bob Dylan

Hell

It Could Be Worse

You could be living in Hieronymous Bosch's hell.

Unhappy Meal toys: Hieronymous Bosch action figures. (via Incoming Signals)

Quote of the Day: Transcript of remarks between Boxer and Rice

Quote of the Day

"Now, the war was sold to the American people, as Chief of Staff to President Bush Andy Card said, like a 'new product.' Those were his words. Remember, he said, 'You don't roll out a new product in the summer.' Now, you rolled out the idea and then you had to convince the people, as you made your case with the president.

"And I personally believe -- this is my personal view -- that your loyalty to the mission you were given, to sell this war, overwhelmed your respect for the truth. And I don't say it lightly, and I'm going to go into the documents that show your statements and the facts at the time."
--Senator Barbara Boxer, at Senate confirmation hearings for Condoleezza Rice, nominee for Secretary of State here in Bizzaroworld

More here

Random Acts of Poetry

Random Acts of Poetry

Child’s Monster

A monster once trolled our local scene,
big as a thunderhead, with brains of jelly,

looking for meat, belching a lava stream,
scorching everything with its anger.

Mad creature from a fever dream,
vomited out by a restless sleeper

onto the rocks of the palisade,
those serrated cliffs,

it stumbled through our landscape
roaring its hunger for vengeance

from its head full of toothy mouth,
ringed with tentacles.

But only a diet of trash could be found,
green slime, salads of kelp at the beach,

and clouds dripping sips of bitter tea--
an intolerable menu.

This fiend became ashamed of its ugliness,
the way it frightened the birds,

and soon enough it began to shrink, slowly,
like an old balloon.

It shook and raged as it imploded,
and began to resemble a heap of dead leaves.

The monster then went flat as a stepping stone,
and sank into our damp backyard

till only its face remained, turned up to the sky,
as if waiting for help to descend.

Today, we keep it hidden and confined
to a picture in a children’s book.
_