Tuesday, April 13, 2004


I had the bad sense to ask my erudite cousin who lives in the boondocks what he thought of my recent blog entries that consist of just a short poem. J.W. answered in terms so complimentary to my regular blogs that I won’t quote them here, for they would make my ears burn and my ego swell like a toad and make you suspect that I’ve made this cousin up out of whole cloth. My cousin was kind about the poems, too, but insisted that he thought my readers were being given short shrift when I didn’t have a diatribe or discourse of some kind as well. His guess was that “my public” (all 8 or 9 of them?) were by now addicted to my crazy prose, if anything. But, in short, his answer was that he wants both the prose and the poetry. Well, he always was a greedy eater when we were kids—he just took a few decades longer to get fat than I did.

I appreciate J.W.’s interest, of course, and I can eat as hearty off a compliment and as long as any other greedy fool on the planet, but I don’t think he gets the point. The poems are not meant as pearls before swine or as an extra joy to you lovers of prose out there. The poems are performing the undignified task of Filling Space! On the days when I cannot think straight or on the days when I just Can’t Finish the next blog entry yet (like today), I have little choice—it’s either nothing or that poem. Nature abhors a vacuum, and I hate any blank computer screen that could be filled with my gibberish if only I weren’t so lazy.

Those of you who’ve read this far and who ever feel energetic enough to email or send comments to me, do so now. Tell me if the poems stink or at least if you want them to continue. Tell me if you want one or the other or both. Tell me if you’d like to kiss me sweetly in a dark alley and if you’re even moderately cute we’ll make some kind of arrangements. I’ll wear a paper bag, if need be.

Wait, I’m getting off the point—just tell me what you think about the short poems and if you think I should include horoscopes and crossword puzzles.

“We pander to please,” that’s the new motto around here.

Other mottos:

“We grind up cousins and anybody else in our path as fodder for the Blog.”

“The Blog must go on.”

Upcoming Feature (tomorrow, the next day, whenever): BAD DRIVERS


Oh love,
Thwarted love,
Will he never cease to cry,
Or will the pulse that drives him drive him mad?
Will what draws and beckons bring him down?

Oh let the heart not waver,
But plunge him in complete—
Full-force, full-felt, replete—
Ignore the voice of reason and every strand of doubt,
Let not the flame burn out!


Current draft: 02/08/03

"Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer,
You may be a lover, but you ain’t no Dancer… The Beatles

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