Where did it go.? That sustainable world.' Its been promised now for decades by
Those well meaning? nerds! who grew up
In a world where in an hours walk along any high street, you could get most items
Everyday needs were covered, replete.' And for a little more outlay, we'd afford an
Odd treat, then inside fifteen minutes you
Were inside the door, packing out shelves
With priducts galore' all this could be
done in any village, or regiinal town, there was no need to go to a city, though as always they were around.' What a novel way of living.' In fact the nerds stole its soul.! Packaged that fifteen minute reality
And swapped it, for a lack-lustre gaol, mafe of techy non-sense and remote overviews.' That serve no real
purpose that it seems is the best nerds can do.' A
Cold austaire experience..An
androgynous extreme,.' An existence
gated with passwords, its quite thi cludo-esque nightmare.? Not even a dream, and the saying that, makes sense now of wool
Pulling over eyes.' Is manifest when i realise how many sheep exist, mentally in
The human guise.'
I love summers
going with whim,
being with him.
What can compare
to no schedule, no plans,
the cool of martinis
or beachside bikinis?
an underdressed me,
outright hedonism,
shapeless Freedom.
I love Fall
The hustle of classes
their immediate demands
the need for fierce focus,
and the challenge of exams.
The overprepared me,
intense, mental involvement,
a future, academically solvent.
two such separate worlds
that can never collide
which is actually better?
I can't decide.
Both are simply systems with costs
the texture of one, depends on the other
and neither state is fully sustainable.
.
.
Songs for this:
Wake Me Up When September Ends by First to Eleven
Another brick in the wall by Pink Floyd
Question any advice from a friend at 1:12 a.m.
— it’s probably unsound—
but better than staring at the ceiling with your thoughts.
The solution to existential dread is just… outfits and vibes.
Last night, as I slept like a baby - or a log - or a baby log -
I dreamt of vintage Gap dresses and 80s ivory pink glam glitter cocktail frocks.
Sometimes the only available response to civilization is
to buy an imaginary vintage Gap dress and call it coping.
And for some reason, I dreamt, briefly, of Trump as Jesus.
If sleep fails to restore the mind, at least it deals vivid
images to decorate our unconscious unease.
Trump thinks of himself as Jesus—but the question is:
Has Trump actually read the Bible?
Maybe Trump doesn’t know what happened to Jesus.
Spoiler: the Romans got cross with him.
Some jokes are so stupid—they have to be true.
.
.
A song for this:
Dreams by The Cranberries
.
note: You don’t have to read the Bible, you could stream the movie:
The Bible (1966) directed by John Huston
.
wrap'd
with tint'did
sun
taut prize'd sheath
drape'd
with cotton
blue
diaphanous sundress
strip'd
with scantiez
no
with scruplez
no
edvard beginz sculpt'en
hern
*the astute artist knowz;
thuh sculpt beginz 'fore
yuh ever touch thuh medium
<]')
A simple leaf unfurled himself one spring
His fledgling face beholding sun-kissed sky
Where each cloud traced a new imagining
And bore aloft his dreams to one day fly
In time he left behind such childish ways
And focused on his purpose to the tree
To harvest and consume his brightest days
And so impress the jade-clad bourgeoisie
With time he found his verdant color fade
As shriveled lines subverted youthful cast
And even dreams of flight now felt betrayed
By seeing how that day would be his last
I think about this leaf and reminisce
For what am I but such a leaf as this
8/1/2026
I say, can you?
“You can,” says Uncle Sam.
“I don’t have an uncle,
named sam
I am,” I say.
Can you?
You can,
and you do,
go off with boots
on the ground,
stand your ground,
get ground
into the grind
of a half-written rhyme.
Uncle Sam wants you,
who me?
We’ll see.
We will?
We will time our rhymes
to meet symmetrically.
Uncle Bob begs
you to join.
You know Uncle
Bobbing Head.
You agree to meet.
You can’t help
yourself.
You’re a yo-yo,
attached to a
round robin,
writing
in refrains.
Refrain from such nonsense
as calling the uncles
or stepping on ants,
and saying
your ain’ts and cain’ts.
Why do you frown, sweet little one?
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
On some height, and blown always
With arms fully extended
Embracing it.
If stiff frozed through!
If wails transmit!
A deep valley, o'erlooking
Or that, deeper
For a great sea.
Soul. A condemned
World - kindredly!
if the future is tomorrow,
and today was once tomorrow,
then future has already past.
if time is constant,
then life is constant
and this pain will never last.
if i am me
and you are you
then who are we,
if not me and you?
my boss is such a crab!
We all giggled at the bar
Truly, he is grouchy and mean
His directives sound like tar
We are laughing our petootsies off
one of the workers falls off her stool
She has no idea about accountant work
She works in a lovely grade school
.
mine think's see'z
touch
touch'd
by fellowz
mine
thinkerz
Our grandson had a party
To attend near where we live,
So a place to stay with Uber rides
Was what we had to give.
At 12 years old, Bar Mitzvahs beckon;
He’s a busy guy.
It’s hard to understand how fast
The years are zipping by.
Yet it was such a treat for us
To have him come to stay,
For even just the shortest time
With him can make our day.
To see the city through his eyes,
The place his dad was raised,
Is the part of nana-ing that leaves me
Happy and amazed.
three smug elves were beyond merely satisfied that day
They had smug looks that in no way slid off or went away
Have you ever seen such looks? We other workers asked each other.
I have said one of the smarty pants ones; it was my mother.
the Halloween dance of the witches and such
Was attended by those who love it very much
There were skeletons and goblins, ghosts galore
All kinds of costumes, no dancer a bore.
They danced around a bonfire, witches and all
Frankenstein and Dracula, gnomes but a foot tall
Ghosts filled the sky, there were mad hatters too
As far as I know they danced in the morning ‘til two
No one ever heard of a pink polka dotted pumpkin we said.
Well, I have one said Grandma, come by and bring your Uncle Ed
Uncle Ed and I laughed about this in the car on the ride over.
Until we stopped and saw the painted pumpkins of Grandma Dover.
You didn’t tell us it was a painted pumpkin, we argued with her.
She laughed at our refusal to give her the win, not so very pure.
You did not ask me, she reminded us, assuming the win.
We groused on the way home, she had beaten us again.
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