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Denizens, Burghers, and Bye Bye

OH, some DEEP chill mix. Well why not some breakthrough covid music to gear up to get that booster vac? Today, around lunch time. And the coming soon countdown clock on my new stand-alone site ticks away at 36 days, 9 hours, 28 minutes, and 48 seconds. And it’s tagged with…a personal post coming soon…or there about, and, all in CAPS. Which says, gentle reader, I’m taking my fuckin’ time. And it also implies that I’m an idiot, in suggesting that a stand alone personal post would garner any semblance of readers…be they gentle or not. But we’ll give it

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When, A New Day?

Another morning memoNo……nowMake that a note to selfAbout the wealth of timethis stint allows to simplyponder what the over yondermay

Re-Upped…Just Now

The Cost Of The Edifice This Year half a grandout of pocketto post here and There… that, in no way…warrants

Whys and Wherefores

In my twenties I wanted all days to feel like Friday night. In my forties, a late Saturday night. And

  • In rare metals this time, and one point two billon into his forth fortune, “Bankrupt” Bill Bingham was fixing to celebrate the first anniversary of marriage to his third wife, Verity. Three

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  • Friday, after work hours, I met his blonde at Bromide. She parked herself in the bar stool next to me. She ordered my kind of bourbon. Neat. Her attire was rich. She

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More Mouse Droppings !

Sans cigarettes I can’t compose. As if my hacking away resembles in any part a composition. And while

Fluff and The World Serious

OR Parse The Penance…from last night Some soft shoe, damn near, hush puppy like lo-fi streaming as I

Where I Don’t Write

In my home office is where I don’t write it. Sure, I keyboard a poem or two, and

OLD WHITE MEN

You not gonna reproach my run of past NaPoWriMo poetry post: now are ya. This site just went up. Still using Text logos...

Spring Snow

I know it’s cold and yes it’s damp and likely tomorrow spring snow so wear that little sundress and those sandals with pouty heels wear that sweet, short sundress we’ll light candles and cut some deals wear that sexy-ass sundress as it manhandles it also reveals our impatience with mother nature I

Never Never Land-Never Mind.

The story about American off-year electoral participation is, there is no story. More precisely, there is nothing new. The voter is only concerned with the political now, and the now being but transitory, any sense of self governance is relegated to a never-never-land of never mind. But you’re not like

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