rosencranberryguildensternwhileyoulearn

a poem:
so few and far between are bloggy postings from my foggy brain,
and zombie fingers dance across the hokey-pokey keys in vain.
before the end of summer lying backward looking upward comes,
pathology of path (insert the new) --------subtract divisive sums.

a pod:
i find myself walking everywhere and lose myself walking back. i check out a novel, a play, and a book of poems each library visit and read them all ravenously. i finish giant slurpees not two blocks from the 7-eleven from whence they came.

a peach:
if scott's mustache is any indication, the world may have gone to it's proverbial destination in a handbasket, but also come back---a little burnt around the edges, but still soft in the middle. someone quite careful must have little red riding hood ridden it through. or maybe it was a rescue mission. watch out for the cats who guard the gate. they don't even flinch when your headlights roar up (synecdochous, no?).

dedications:
annie gets "nap time" and "thank you for encouraging me to post, even though i'm not sure why you would want to read all this absurdity" by the sometime folk duo that opens for itself as a trio (with trumpet).
rachel gets "don't worry baby" by the beach boys, and tries not to dwell on the automobillion.
mom gets the 9-minute version of "bluebird" by the buffalo springfield.
dad gets "magic bus" by the who, or whatever his computer selects.
i get what i deserve (not always bad) to a column 2 soundtrack.
and she (not alone) hears dylan in the distance with a live version of "just like a woman" (lyrical changes noted).

what if the truth is what i've suspected in paranoid all alonging?