my truest feelings keep disappearing
one-two-three, poof!
at odds with any action / reaction /
correction
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
my truest feelings keep disappearing
one-two-three, poof!
at odds with any action / reaction /
correction
Looking at Facebook, too many ads. Getting harder to file through to the posts by people I know or sites I follow.
In the past, I had largely ignored FB, returning sporadically, but after moving up here, where it’s like a telephone party line, back when people had landline phones, I’m finding more reasons to check in.
But not everyone, by a long shot, is hanging on to hear the gossip.
Too many ads. And maybe too much chatter.
The return was also prompted in the past year by an opportunity to catch up on a host of classmates I’d lost contact with in my moves across the continent.
That part’s been helpful.
But I’m also encountering too many folks who haven’t posted anything in three or more years. Likely haven’t checked in since then, either.
Hello! Anyone home there?
Can’t tell. Too many ads.
What’s your take?

she sent her love
while screwing another
firsthand story of real life
his or hers
I thought the guy was kidding when he pulled up in town and confided that he was going to repaint Eastport’s iconic waterfront fisherman statue, changing the blue coat to a yellow slicker. I was sworn to secrecy at the time, but the next day, there he was, in full light, doing the deed.
The somewhat surreal, but shall we say fiberglass de facto emblem of the city, really got a fashion update. Or upgrade, in my opinion. Seems I’m not alone. Yes, that yellow slicker fits much better.

My kudos to Patrick Keough of Seward, Nebraska, for something that even included an imaginative eyepatch.
Some folks, however, are seeing a similarity with the Gorton’s guy down in Gloucester on Cape Ann, Massachusetts.
I think they have that backwards.

Maine is roughly twice the size of Denmark.
And we have more than our share of hamlets.
But not many pigs.
brown grocery-bag tea-bags
of feathers and shells
none of it in High Plains regalia


Little did anyone know
the saint sprouting horns
had a Virgin M dildo
as her ballet partner