SEVENTH WEEK SATURDAY: A WEEK IN THE BODY ODD

This week has been a mixture of nose-bleed highs and bog-wading lows with my writing.  Since I only committed to writing FIVE-DAYS-A-WEEK through the end of 2011, this Saturday is sort of an extra little “doo-dad” for me.  Here goes:

 

Scrunched shoulders at a computer screen

lead to scrunched blood supply from soul to brain.

(See me driving myself into a rut trying to social network in the interests of improving my “worldview” in the interests of my writing career!)

 

Designer scraves for peaceful necks

and weaving fingers where the heat drips a scarf of dust.

(See NYC Trends News on weather.com under any zip code contained in NYC)

 

LO to tweets

NO to sweets

IO to bank

MO to shank

ZeRo to interest

NeRo to pederast

BO to date

SO to hate

URLs, MACaddresses, IPaddresses, tweets, pings, LOLs, and WTFs

 

No typing, only clicking

No composing, just copying/pasting/linking/tweeting and FBing

No IRSing for OWSing

IR sing-ing even when OW!-ing on bridges and docks after NO PARK-ings

No stamps on wide stationary, only blogging on broad screened broad bands.

 

I never met a Quaker from Alabama (from the 2011 novel by James Lee Burke about fools)

I never me a sailor from Mount Zion

I never met a juggler from the Moon

I never met my loverboy in church

I never met Granny at Bubba’s Internet Cafe

I never met a clown at the graveyard

I never met a senator in the library

I never met a pianotuner at the Met

I never met a doctor at Rite-Aid

I never met a banker at the Food Bank

I never met an ancient god in a beauty parlor

I never met a gambler in a lion’s cage

I never met a magician at a firing range

I never meet myself until I leave.

(Aplogies for the boring format and STILL no graphics included, but my wordpress admin is acting up.)

 

 

Advertisement