And here are partial lyrics to the song “Walk On” by the masterful John Hiatt: Someone called out to youAnd it sounded just like cryingOn a street where nobodyEven knows your nameYour mind was getting high on the sweet airAs your spirit was flying Steam rising from the sidewalksOf New Orleans after an evening rainSteamContinue reading ““Looking Up: NOLA””
Category Archives: Uncategorized
“Old, Baltimore…”
It’s a rare sighting these days. The pay phone. Even more so the large scale phone booth. And is it strange that my first thought went to hygiene? We used to handle that plastic receiver without a care back in the day, but now? Full HAZMAT. Hand gel. Wipes. Mask and gloves. Blame COVID, IContinue reading ““Old, Baltimore…””
“Flip the Switch”
“What’s Playing” Sometimes you must scratch that itch Skip a class or call in sick Tweak the dials, flip the switch Chase high art or candy-kitsch As if all these things were equal, The post-modern and Medieval, That through you run prismatic Only risking the ecstatic So step right up and get your fix AContinue reading ““Flip the Switch””
“Bird Brain”
“Artsy Selfie”
“Signs of Life”
“Trifectations”
“Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three…” (from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail“). Plus I can’t keep four thoughts in my head at the same time. #1) Not many people know this but Donald Trump hails/heils from German (father’s side) and Scottish (mother’s) heritage.Continue reading ““Trifectations””
“Mask Brick-o-lage”
Bricolage (noun): A French loan-word that reflects improvisation in the construction or creation of a work from a diverse range of available materials; DIY. The term has been applied in many disciples ranging from art and architecture to anthropology and cultural studies to philosophy, education and computer science. This blog is a bricolage. A blog-o-lage,Continue reading ““Mask Brick-o-lage””
“A Ride with Ruggles”
This is a family heirloom passed down through my late Uncle Jack that regards a relative with the surname of Ford, the same as my middle name. It was found in a metal lockbox and my sister miracuously found the key amidst a hoarder’s paradise of numerous books and scattered effects. We hope to learn more aboutContinue reading ““A Ride with Ruggles””
“Dial P for Poem”
“The Thunderclown” The Thunderclown’s face Lies frozen in frown His faux d’orange skin’s Not naturally found With a bilious heart He’d send the ship down And this just because We’ve denied him the crown Our gunwales awash A gash in the bow Sails all torn up And twisted around He’d leave us to founder ThenContinue reading ““Dial P for Poem””
