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Anti-War Dance

So said we, as it were, that no great leader may come and swoop us all away.  I said it beforehand, I hold to it still.  The time to leave our present states of being, the time to stand and ask ourselves, "What the fuck?!" is now.  There's only so many minutes in a day, my lad, and there's only so many instances in which we can stand idly and say, "Hey... for fuck's sake!  That's not fair to the people."  Eventually, the names subside and the causes hit the rocks with as much force as the salty waves following them.  It's easy to give up.  Our entire sense of hope lies in the fact that we can make a difference!  The first step is to acknowledge the fact that the government cannot, and simply will not work for us.  We must do for ourselves what others will not.  The second step is to stand up.  Every time a Mormon approaches, in a suit and tie, we must say, "NO!"  Every time an army recruiter nears us, with a smile and an innocent look, we must say, "NO!"  There is no middle ground.  There can be no middling.  It is very very crucial, especially at this juncture, that we deny those fascists even a foot in the door.

Chewing Through Your Wimpy Dreams

I think often of summertime; in the winter I think of summer.  Spring brings me a sort of internal dance, spiraling in my organs with a specific logic.  The spin produces a crystalline glow -- not visible externally, but evident upon questioning.  I think too often of summertime; I wait impatiently for impatiens.  I've revealed every study; I've signified every comparison.  I've stated several times the status of my sensibility.  Creeping through leeds, slipping on outreaching vines, I've established in myself a sense of "self;" I've established a definite form among infinite ichor.

A Warm April's Rain

I think this is some of the best weather I've ever seen.  I can't remember anything better.  It's warm, right?  But it's pleasantly raining.  And there are no bugs, so I can leave the window open without a screen.  I love the way the rain streaks down the pines, missing some of the knots completely.  It's like a thin sap, but one that makes it all the way to the ground.  The green tint of the bark stands out as somehow greener when glossed by water.



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June 2009


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