Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                               Lemons and the Divine Ekonomia

My neighbor has a lemon tree
He gives me lemons
And I too have a lemon tree
I give him lemons

This is not economy
This is Ekonomia

It is divine

Life at 21, do you remember it?
Things rush at you, hit you, from all directions.
Any small decision can turn into a major plot beat.

What are our lives anyway but the sum of our decisions?
Opportunities contract and expand around us, like breathing—
and what fills those lungs are our test scores and faculty opinion.

College is a land of dreams—we’re all dream catchers—on our own paths, but the paths are mazes shrouded in haze, tumblers in need of combinations, variants that we must learn and memorize though it drains our communal blood.

At test times, the silence in libraries and coffeehouses is deafening,
full, as they are, of hunched-back phantoms toiling on books or blue-lit screens. If it sounds stressful and dramatic—it is. It’s not a time to get raddled—it’s all a big test.

Your world contracts to the sterile and dry— the facts and the moments needed to gather and order them.

That’s why we love breaks. Fall, Summer, Christmas, Thanksgiving—any flavor—break.

In fact, Lisa and I are on break now, I’m typing, on a MacBook Air, in a helicopter, screaming towards Manhattan.

If we don’t die in this shaky, 250mph, 3000-feet out-over Long Island Sound, cricket-like contraption, we’re going to have a great time—if we do nothing but sleep, hug our families and eat turkey—a great time.
.
.
Songs for this:
Little Hercules by Trisha Yearwood
Constant Craving by k.d. lang

Rollin' rollin', keep on scrollin'
This will get your head a'bowlin'
See how straight those ***** will goʻ
All those pretty pins lined in a row

But'cha don't want your mind straight do ya
You want a ditch of filth to stew'ya
Your brain becomes a marinade
Of things unholy... devil made.

Those New Age crysta-Koolade drinks
The poison spirit guide mega kinks
Will **** ya and destroy your brain
When you're dead you'll be insane

You pass up the truth, this land
Will mostly reject Jesus han̈d
Thet will follow folks 'o' fame
.Lady Gaga rather than Jesus' Name

So breeze on by, you coins for the well
You are goin' straight to hell,
I wish you'd read, I wish you'd turn
I WISH REPENTANCE COULD BE LEARNED
IF IT'S NOT, FRIEND, YOU WILL BURN!


THANKS FOR READING

invisible inc aka
Write of Passage aka
SøułSurvivør

Catherine Jarvis

We all are born drowning in reverse from the watery womb blood and breath, we merge naked.

Slowly losing energy every molecular dies.

High tide low tide,
up and down the river we climbed, we all are born to rise and fall, six feet under the cold hard stone choking on the earth until our bodies are bones.

Holy no, no one can control it
oh no oh Lord no... Deaths following always at my heels waiting for my days to end.

Here I am still drowning in reverse waiting for the ship to take me to heavens glory. I've been surfing on high tides up and down the rivers grind.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

I woke up with
A sore back, and
stepped in cat
***** when my
feet hit the floor.
I turned on the
radio, and My Favorite
Things was playing,
the John Coltrane
version.
It reminds me of
rainy July nights.

I make some coffee,
And check the book sales.
Hey, I got a couple in
India, and the coffee tastes
right.

I take it as it comes.
Black and true, like
Steinbeck's bones.
Don’t forget about the
goings of mice and men.