conclusion

by anonymous

nature is round civilization is square either way life is unfair

taken

by bofs xesjum

how many times did moses have his picture taken? how many times did confucius have his picture taken? alexander the great? constantnine the great? excuse me - what do you mean by “picture taken”? anything that could be considered a reasonably accurate likeness - either by photography or by a duly accredited portrait piainter like goya or whistler or andy warhol or by a skilled artist. perhaps i should have said likeness taken. how many times did joan of arc have her likeness taken? voltaire? marie antoinette? george washington? daguerrotypes and photography emerge: how many times did queen vvictoria have her picture taken? how nany times did abraham lincoln have his picture taken? karl marx? nietzsche? wodrow wilson? rudolf valentino? ernest heningway? einstein? hitler? stalin? marilyn monroe? john lennon? bob dylan? andy warhol himself? oprah winfrey? how many times have you had your picture taken? how many times have you taken your own picture?

blue

by dog e relaford

i had a dog named old blue who never really knew what to do and a cat named fluff who cut up rough i had an uncle named bud who was always falling in the mud and an aunt named named pearl who was quite a girl back in the day so they say i had a wombat named mchale who thought the human race was beyond the pale and a gila monster named mcgurk who never did an honest day’s work i knew a building inspector named ed brown who was the loneliest man in town and a taxidermist named bill smith i did not like to be seen in public with all these curious creatures had their distinguishing features there were a million others where they came from and they all gathered on the courthouse lawn that is enough for now anyhow

thoughtful

by horace p sternwall

nobody liked henry strong because he had been on the chain gang too long or cared much for jarvis weeks because he was a silly freak and few people stood in line to hear amanda briggs opine on patriarchy or capitalism or gender theory’s latest schism or eagerly listened to my uncle gus as he loudly asserted on the bus that everything was just fine back in the beginning of time how many people are paid attention? not enough to mention and yet in a curious twist they persist humans stand in wind and rain to say things over and over again and when they go inside they have nothing to hide

the mockers

by rhoda penmarq

mock on, mock on, rimbaud, verlaine sitting in a cafe watching the rain as the poor working man passes by with a load on his back and a tear in his eye a million of them for every one of you as carefree as when the world was new when clouds sang in the breeze and apples laughed in the trees then the shadow of cain fell across the plain the lions roared and the pterodactyls soared abel was the first poet sitting behind a tree as cain marched off to war to glorious victory the sounds of battle in the distance like the buzzing of bees the poet dreams a line or two and his head falls on his knees a butterfly floats by on wings of pink and blue history is born in a lightning cloud maybe not for me or you

keyhole

by horace p sternwall

omar had a keyhole he watched the world through it he shook his head and said i knew it everything they told me was a lie in the misty moonlight in the sweet bye and bye there is no golden throne with a wise king upon it just an old wooden crate with a dog sitting on it the dog’ s name is joe and the crate’s name is jack when their names are called they will never come back the room is empty and the sky is gray adam looks in the window but eve is away abel bounces a ball but cain has no bat the wind comes down the mountain and blows off pharoah’s hat it is all very sad and may work out some day omar folds up his tent and wanders away

yield

by rhoda penmarq

the terpischorean remnants of the embittered yielders stared at me from the edge of the tattered lawn i had my dictionary at the ready but they thoroughly humiliated me nevertheless snow-capped mountains to the left of me shiny black buildings to the right i turned and ran but, strangely, heard no laughter behind me i met eddie jones on the horizon he upbraided me savagely but i had had enough and diverted my energies to the creatures in the river an old school chum emerged from the mist wearing a rumpled blazer and a gold braided yachting cap have mercy, i cried dolorously i spend my whole life eating out of plastic containers