The Rat Squeaks

Life is so interesting, the way it won't stay simple. How it won't go Straight Ahead. Everything leads to something else or else i...

The trouble with Bloggers is that they aren't really writers. Don't get me wrong, some of them are quite good writers. Others coul...

It has been determined that although you are not George, you will have to read a poem today called A Song For George in JUDY GARLAND BLUES...

I wrote yesterday about living in Matchbox, Texas one summer and finding it an odd experience. Not that I gave it a fair chance; I don'...

When I lived in Austin years ago, there was one summer that I took it into my head (the same way, I guess, that you'd decide to just int...

John Clifton B. came home from the hospital Thursday evening, though he’d never exactly been “home” before. So on Friday, a mere three days...

Listen, I'm hiding under a rock today and I'm not coming out. If there's no snakes in here, I just might stay a while. I'l...

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM   by Edgar Allan Poe, 1827 Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow -- Y...

John Clifton B. was born around one o’ clock on Tuesday morning, May 18, 2004. My sister was awakened and told about it on the phone shortl...

I don’t want to write another blog. Not today. In fact, I don’t intend to. You can’t make me. I’m tired, very tired. Go look at a topic...