2 thoughts on “Thursday, December 23, 2021

  1. Rob in Middleton: Great poem. Loved what you did with the fog in the later verses. ‘/fog gathers but we forgive it…’ I think it deserves a title. How about ‘Strange Lumber’?

  2. P.K.A.

    “. . . alarm was shrilling in my ear and gray, wet light was spilling through the half-open curtains…”

    Well played. Interestingly I thought at first that “gray” described the sound, which it may still. But “wet light,” is going to stick with me all day.


    It’s a vicious cycle, with predictable, proven and replicated outcomes that somehow confound and surprise its backers. In front of the cameras, anyway.

    When I read “Ten people thinking or shouting” the first time, I anticipated the next to be 100, the next 100,000, the next, 3 billion, as the growth rate seems exponential. But there is elegance in the consistency of ten, which somehow more so states the unstoppable nature of the machine you describe.


    Discutiendo. I dared not shout, forced instead to puñetazo y luchar por mi vida as soon as I was almost big enough. And I think that the scream in scream has gone silent for me now, as silent as were the warnings, and as muted as the repercussions.

    I can do a crazy child
    doing a damaged teen
    doing a bent adult
    to perfection.

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