play till it ain't fun
no more and the real is so
constant here again

Like, knowing like, like
a thief in the night taking means
to ends
beyond holds on shapes that matter
out of sight in minds as blind as any ever,

blind as Milton, blinder
than I, I see, so
I know this is also not hell, as I imagined
my due.

Finding the answer, described as the
indescribable dau, das sein, yhwh, mmmmm
mani-dual done done

battle plenty don been don ' t see
needsplain rain falls on the wise and the fool.

Baby steps, send in the clowns, and they came…

More clowns than Bartholomew had hats,
in the distant realm of Didd…

O, Noah? Tickle, tickle ******, curse you Hamstring

and the little pig bit the ttheif thorn ÜÞꝥ

too odd f'Þe o'Þe peplish whims 'n'phanzee

As we finish dressing the table, the room is dizzy with aromas
and the turkey teases with a golden, honey-like translucence.

Candles, nestled in poinsettia settings, provide a flickering, golden,
almost magical light that’s refracted in windows, crystal and white tablecloth.

I hear Leeza nearby, swinging the living room with laughter. Everyone is giddy from drink, mouth watering hunger and near impossible expectations.

I wish you all a safe, Happy, Thanksgiving.

-You decide

Hard and rough or gentle and slow?


Whatever you want, Im ready, lets go.

It’s unusual for strong expressions to transform contextually in common usage.  “I’m *******.” is one great example. “I’m *******.” is, in origin and essence, a toned-down version of “I’m ******.” Whichever form you choose, both are self-proclaimed damnation. Unlike “I’m ******.” though, “I’m *******” has lost all coarseness and is seldom eschewed no matter how young or prim the lips that form the words. We hear it at work, on elementary school playgrounds, at church, on the news. It has become in the English language the universal acknowledgement of hapless circumstance, foregone conclusion and frustrated failure. And it translates easily from self to others to groups of any size and may be past, present or future tense. So next time you hear, “I/we/you/she/he/they are/we’re/will be *******.” pause ever so slightly and exchange “******” for “*******” and see if the transformation is as subtle but startling for you as it is for me.

In a similar vein, being a screwup is unfortunate but not nearly as bad as being a ******. Here again, two totally identical connotations of identical origin. One you hear everywhere, the other primarily in bars, the street, sporting events and among close friends and closer enemies talking or not talking politics.

George Carlin’s hilarious “Usage of the Word ****” routine gave numerous examples of how versatile is the word “****.” Some, but not all, could use “*****” but few of the interchangeable examples use the word ***** nearly as ******* effectively as the word ****. And some are not interchangeable at all: we don’t talk about things being “nearly as ******* effective.... It just doesn’t work. Similarly, “I’d like to ******* *****.” makes perfect sense but “I’d like to ******* ****.” makes no sense at all. So the words are not interchangeable.

But, for some reason, over time, the English language evolved, letting ******* mean ****** in a socially acceptable way while also letting ******* mean ****** in a ****** way or in a ******* way. And I have a theory how it happened.

Have you ever had to put a ***** in something directly over your head and maybe a bit out of reach? Of course you have. And like many a normal person you found the task embarrassingly difficult. After once or twice there’s yet again. You say, Ah ****! I have to ***** up.” And you knew you were ******. And you’d inevitably **** it up even if ever so slightly dropping the *****, or worse, falling off the ******* ladder. Then you’d really be ******! But you didn’t say that. No, that wouldn’t be polite. So you’d say you were ******* because you had to ***** up and would likely ***** it up and die trying falling off the ladder. And with so many people over and over again not so proficient with a ***** driver the language simply evolved.

Now I know you find this whole discussion a bit screwy. That’s okay. Even George found no reason to say something was “a bit fucky.”

Thank you.

2020 All screwy rights reserved

So I got robbed
by my shadow last night;

           That's pretty dark.

I threw a steak at a girl;
that's a tender way to meet.
But I got beat with a
hole in my head;

       That's an empty thought.


And she broke my nose
so I couldn't smell;

             Her intentions.

I told her she
was pretty sweet;
and was offered a piece.

                  I bit off her lip.

And I was told;
I belong to the streets;
that's really funny because
I won't allow anyone to;

               Walk all over me.

I don't think she got
what I really meant,
So to seem concrete,
I went on to buy her a bag;

                         Of cement.

Yesterday,
I lost my cool;
writing a surprise exam
yet the test was;

              Such a breeze.

It gave me food for thought,
but I kept on complaining,
because I'm still hungry;

                  And want to eat.

And I laugh so big
at my own jokes,
because I took humour,
and added enormous;

             To make it humorous.

When it comes to getting freaky I have but one request,

******* is the only position which I like best.

Happily, I'll wait with you in the station
For hours and hours
I know you feel stuck
Held back by promises
We could do something fun
Distract you long enough to forget about the pain, and
Secretly, I'll hope your bus never comes