Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Poem: At the Tate Modern and Hello, A Murder of Crows



In a video of the new wing
of the Tate Modern
we rise from our seats
and experience
life anew

Our sacred earth
becomes a jingle of
paradise. We move
from strand to strand
touching, feeling,

We experience the fog
of London. I so like
the fog here on my
street when clouds
descend and the
world looks strange.

Strange. Mysterious.
The minds of everyone
we know. And will know.

Go forward, says the clock.



As I take my accustomed seat
on the green lawn chair
they greet me

if that's what it's called
Hello, Murder of Crows

I respond in my best
voice, as I shovel
my egg omelet

into my hungry mouth.
Just as they feed
their open-beaked

darlings whatever
they've fished up
for them today.

Help yourself to the
bit of fallen mushrooms
coffee grounds and
other detritus

left behind by this greedy
human, who's a lot like you!


I emailed Scott and said, you must watch this video I watched on Charlie Rose. Trump is nothing but a Russian mobster

 Everything came in at once, including new registration stickers!
 Gotta throw half of these address labels away as they're not any good.
Got this LOVELY brochure in the mail. Will make a card out of it later.

 The last of my fab chili! This time I yielded to the desire of adding peanut butter to it. Guess if it was any good or not!
 Best thing I ever did was to buy unbreakable dishes.
At the Giant I bought Good Humor bars, almond flavor.

Fantastic! I ate two and my blood sugar was relatively okay.

So how come your little toe has fallen off?

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