A leak in the atrium killed my old PC (hard drive has yet to be determined alive or dead.) Just got this new one delivered and thankfully remembered my password for it and my email account. It’s going to be a royal pain if the old hard drive died, not only for all of the…
Month: January 2025
Liam’s book review: Everything You Know about Indians Is Wrong, by Paul Chaat Smith
After reading Liam’s review, I’m interested in reading the book.
dVerse OLN 377 — Note to Myself
Gertrude Abercrombie’s, “Where or When (Things Past)” (1948), oil on canvas, 21 1/2 x 35 1/2 inches. Image courtesy of the Carnegie Museum of Art and Colby Museum of Art, shared with permission Note to Myself A small, tall door left,in space wherehorizon cuts offat legless knees.Reflexes subdued,tethered to lobotomizing deaf.Paralyzed marionette,holding strings,manifest myself rearing…
#FF — A Fine Woman
PHOTO PROMPT © Mr. Binks A Fine Woman Born eighty years ago, Marina was named after the family business. From the time she could walk, Marina was stacking bins. By age ten, she was cutting bait; and by fifteen, was taking trawlers out and throwing cages. At age thirty, it was Marina’s idea to invest…
dVerse Poetics — Skinnamarink Surreality
Nose hairs crackle in minus.One degree less and the whole thing blows.‘Cause cold means COLD.Even equators know that. In 1972, I still rememberyou were the town crone —and our summer thrill. Your name is given,but it is up to youwhether or not to use it.If you do, what it meansis for you to choose,not the…
dVerse — Q216 — Can you guess who I am?
Can you guess who I am? Hints: Matte, sparkled with prism upon flat or contoured terrain; edged by windsways, pert chirps, your grateful eyes under unshrouded bright.Wavy, opaque cylinders drip away gentle rhythm to my welcome cameo that dispels shivery moodsgloom fleesmakes wayto feel, re-embracehope. Michelle Beauchamp, aka Mish, is today’s host of…
#FF — Alive
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson Alive It’s quiet down here, far from screeches and howls at the surface. Constant light takes some adjustment. It’s always sixty degrees, but the cement floors’ cold can work its way up your feet and ache into the long bones. Threaded power lines travel the circuit. Sometimes they hum, like…
Tao Talk 