Stranded Words (Interlude) (youtube.com/watch?v=3EE-4Wn-jo) Listening to this and deep reading Ocean Vuang's poem "Essay on Craft" (buff.ly/2uq7k0h)

Political Poetry: COVID19

COVID-19.
The great equalizer?
No.
It reveals just how unequal we are.
The middle class
can join the viral underclass,
one infection away
from getting curb-stomped
down and out.
Where is the solidarity
that comes from knowing
the next virus
might just be
the Great Equalizer?


diigo.com/0q6p3z

The Visit

She was surprised.
So were we.
Her daddy said,
"I have a surprise for you."
She looked
and when she saw it was us
she was disappointed.
We were guilty
of being
the insufficiently
surprising
grandparents.

Jupiter at Opposition III | StarDate Online buff.ly/3Rg8oJc Telescopes out! Or maybe good binoculars.

Riddledly Riddledly Ree

A draft--
A lightly blazed trail--
A hint of vanilla
in the lip balm--
A road--
A path--
A course
of course
In a queue--
I follow them.
A track--
A vestige--
A memory--
And a very little--
An echo--
A left-over--
A mark--
A phosphor blip firefly timelapse.
The smoke.
The wake.
A prompt.
What am I?
A trace.




Hope and Pain: So Be Them buff.ly/3B6kT4d A post about 'bright-siding' and the necessity for pragmatic optimism that acknowledges the dark, too.

Your Only

What
will you
notice
on this
holy only morning?
What do I
notice?
My mind
is full of helium
and my heart
is a gondola
with no ballast.
I cut loose
all
those
sandbags.
Or didn’t you notice?

@dogtrax I don't think I ever thanked you enough for this sweet 'nothing' that is very much something. Thanks

@cogdog @hibbittsdesign Super cool tool. I suppose the ultimate tool for better read.me's is empathy.

poem/blood reference 

@dogtrax Reminds me of a quote attributed to Red Smith, the sports writer, about the task of a writer, “You simply sit down at the typewriter, open your veins, and bleed.”

Here is an investigation into the origins of that quote: quoteinvestigator.com/2011/09/

@dogtrax Yes, we are driven to invent mysteries with the greatest mysteries of all--words.

@lunastation quote response from Emily Dickinson: "My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -"



Here's a fill-in MastoPrompt.

Black Ink, Black Paper

You don't realize

that I wriggle by

both bidden and unbidden,

a hummingbird moth

in larval form

nibbling and skulking,

"I am here. I am here."

My silent inky maw

writing away in the darkness.

Black ink.

Black paper.

I have baked daily visits to my fellow internet travellers' blogs. This lurking is difficult to track and note so I wrote a about it.

You don't realize

that I wriggle by

both bidden and unbidden,

a hummingbird moth

in larval form

nibbling and skulking,

"I am here. I am here."

My silent inky maw

writing away in the darkness.

Black ink.

Black paper.

We feed the birds
and the birds are born
like magic onto the feeders.
Whole families
swarm together,
bickering and beaking
each other.
And never do they ever
decide who is
top dragon.
They take turns.

Today's for is...

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