teacher says
alright class, line up by the cubbies,
time to go to the assembly,

invariably odd,
the same kids would always
rush to be
at the head of the line,
and some, always
the same different ones,
rush led to be
at the back
of the line-age

nobody made it their business to be in the
middle of the line, though statistically however likely,

the majority aligned,
arrived, diffentiated,
however desirable
or however
undesired,
in the prematurity
of a mid line
life crisis

few if any, said:
I want to be in the anonymous
mid of everything for the rest of my life

or am I,
si or no. incorrect,

will I lose this bet I made
with myself?

surely there are those who crave the anonymity, the safety of a blended
number, neither the tallest or the shortest,
oldest or youngest, smartest or the class
dummy, who never got it right
should the
teacher absentmindedly
in error called
upon him (always a boy),

and here I am so far away from those
elementary days, puzzling out this,
myself vis-a-vis
this ancient mystery,
struggling to muster the
memory of where I
was, how
and why I came
to be
where, to be me,
what
calculus did I perform to select
my “identifying”
person~ality

I’ll dwell on this today
until it is resolved, perhaps
that alone, is the key to
arriving successfully at
a soluble solution to this
question my brain made
unavoidable, but first
must write,
before They lay ne down to sleep,

The End (😉)

I once told my wife I was going out to buy an envelope:

“Oh",  she said, "well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go  online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet?"

And  so I pretended not to hear her. And went out to get an envelope because  I have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope.

I  meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babies. And a fire  engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And I'll ask a woman what  kind of dog that is. And, and I don't know. The moral of the story is -  we're here on Earth to **** around.

And, of course,  the computers will do us out of that. And what the computer people don't  realise, or they don't care, is we're dancing animals. You know, we  love to move around. And it's like we're not supposed to dance at all  anymore.

Let's all get up and move around a bit right now... or at least dance.

Kurt Vonnegut

is a delightful pleasuring, to be equally enjoyed by the giver as well as the recipient


say it slow, like it is a well chewed, tastefully
delivered morsel, let it hang in the air so
it is available to all, and greet it with the
precisely perfect response like an old dearest friend, recovered & uncovered once more, with the well considered, perfectly constructed and fine elegance of a


welcoming