Saturday, August 22, 2015

909. Corn

Mary-Margaret kicked at the dirt.
She was alone in an empty field.
"Maybe Thursday," she wrote in her little notebook.
That's when people would eat the corn.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

908. The old church

Their grandfathers' grandfathers cut its stone from the Quarry by hand, everyone said.
It was a part of their heritage, they all agreed.
How could those idiots at City Hall approve its demolition, they all demanded to know.
But, when the hat was passed around, they all turned out their pockets and cried poor.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

907. Just checking in

Dear Simon, I'm writing to you from "the other side" - lol.
All in all, it's pretty good, but maybe a bit too crowded.
Thumbs up to free tennis, but thumbs down to no longer being among the living ;).
Well, talk soon - probably.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

906. Moths

I went for a walk the other evening - in the twilight.
A moth flew right in my eye and scared the piss out of me.
But, I'm ok.
We're all ok.

Friday, July 31, 2015

905. And the Lord spoke

Moses looked to the sky, palms raised.
"Lord," he said, "Give us your laws that we might know we are your favoured people above all others."
"Uh, geez guy," said the voice of God ringing out from the heavens, "What if you were all like, equal and we played this cool."
Moses opened his mouth again to answer, "..."

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

904. 100 and 80

We keep a dartboard in the living room.
It's used for settling things, like who's right and who's wrong.
Sure it's dangerous, but it works.
Just try me.

Monday, July 27, 2015

903. "Robert"

My father has his own nickname for Bob Dylan.
Because he knows him.
Except he doesn't.
He shook his hand once at a concert - before he went electric.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

902. The sweet smell

Do you know it, the smell of success?
I imagine it as earthy and primal.
Then what are we smelling right now?

Saturday, July 18, 2015

901. That roly-poly little bap-faced girl has feelings too, bub

Sometimes, my life feels like the lyrics of a Paul Simon song.
Like, there's this one verse - the third verse in "You Can Call Me Al" - 
that's beautiful right down to its guts - Amen and Hallelujah.
But that's not me.
Why am I soft in the middle?

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

900. I can't get California off my mind

Can't get California off my mind.
I just feel like my life would be ok if I was drifting up some coastal highway in a 1962 Triumph Spitfire.
The average mpg of the Triumph Spitfire is 31 miles per gallon.
I need to pick up eggs.