Those dreams in which one falls,
Uncontrollably hurtling
Toward what seems like certain death, or at the very least
Grievous injury,
Like a freeway insect making an abstract blotch upon a windshield,
Are supposed to mean something.
You like to dance to the music of your body
Unaware and drowning in bliss,
Certain somehow that all will turn out as it ought to,
If only in a dream.
This week, many of us will enjoy a day off from work, as well as the occasion to pay reverent homage to someone we’ve been taught is a genuine hero: brave, courageous, and diligent, a man whose singular accomplishments made life for all us holiday takers possible.
Grand parades will proceed down festive avenues, and schoolkids will be reminded once again of the glorious events of 1492. A small minority of party-poopers will put their…
Writer, poet, artist, improviser, lyricist, former television personality, and generally decent person.
If you require additional evidence that the presidency of Donald J. Trump poses an existential danger to the United States of America, read The Fifth Risk, the latest work of journalism from popular author Michael Lewis. This short (fewer than 225 pages), easy-to-follow book profiles several dedicated federal employees in various Departments, including Energy, Agriculture and...
Greatest Hits