Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Classics Reworked for Brooklyn


The Heifer That Wasn't All That And Thought She Was Too Fly!

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Set in stone...

Silly as it may seem... so our time here isn't guaranteed and we never really know for sure what disaster might befall our entire civilization.

And hence... nor shall we ever know what will be destroyed or preserved, and what we will be remembered by.

I am really pulling for the survival of this slab of concrete.

Just because...

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Searching and fearless means

No sacred cows.

No holding back.

No more heroes.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Aria, by David Barber

What if   it were possible to vanquish
All this shame with a wash of   varnishInstead of wishing the stain would vanish?
What if   there were a way to burnish
All this foolishness, all the anguish?
All these ravages with famished relish?
What if   this were your way to flourish?
Knavish, peevish, wolfish, sheepish —
Were all slicked up in something lavish?
Out of everything you must relinquish?
Why not embellish what you can’t abolish?
All the slavishness you’ve failed to banish?
What would you be without this gibberish?
Were to replenish your resolve to vanquish
Every vain wish before you vanish?

What if   you gave it a glossy finish?
What if   you gave yourself   leave to ravish
What if   the self   you love to punish —
Why so squeamish? Why make a fetish
What would be left if   you couldn’t brandish
What if   the true worth of the varnish

Moody

The sights and sounds provided by an average morning commute are far more disturbing than my imagination could possibly conjure.  Should the characters from the Q train start making appearances in  my dreams, I could pretty much kiss sleep goodbye.

Yet what is there already behind my eyes seems to be enough to wake me far shy of any doctor-recommended amount of sleep and keep me awake.  If sleep and wakefulness join forces and conspire in a big Halloweeny sort of fright, I'm fucked.

Proper fucked?

Proper fucked, Tommy.

Maybe it was the detritus of a tough week of work.  Perhaps the sins of a late dinner revisited upon the sleeping hours... who can be sure?  What is certain is that when my eyes opened they were pinned open, despite that my body was still howling in protest.  I knew from experience that nothing shy of a demerol spike was going to bring it back.

Nothing at all.

Surrender to it.

Just get up and move.

Walk.

And that's what I did.

And that's where clarity comes, out there in the dark with the scabby dog.  I can see clearly in the dark and I saw this morning out there on my rounds that I am an old, flat-bottom riverboat foundering sideways in a strong current.  At some point back there I let down a drag anchor that seemed to offer some kind of stability when the current had seemed overwhelming... when it seemed that this go with the flow thing was going and flowing too quickly.  Now it seems that drag anchor has snagged on a deadfall or sandbar and I've spun over on my keel and what once stabilized the vessel has now put it in danger of capsizing.

There is no choice but to cut the anchor rope.  There is no other way to right the boat and point the bow back downstream to wherever the river has decided that everything is going.

Let go or be dragged?

Drift or drown.

It's time to move on.

Bye bye.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Now I understand the design...


Took this one morning last week and it was only seeing the building disappear into its own reflection that I finally "got" it.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Thursday, October 02, 2014