Times New Roman

Rick Rubin has no idea how quickly I would join a cult if he founded one.

There are two kinds of people in the world, and one kind actually sets the clock on their microwave.

Cypress trees in Saw Mill Pond at Caddo Lake State Park in Karnack, TX. May 2023.

my wife left my after I sat on my gun weird and blew off my entire dick and balls at the Cracker Barrel

now that I’m a dark mode sinner I can post stuff like this

I’m in the infinity zone of my Whataburger rewards, y’all. I’ll report back on what I find in the orange dimension (spoiler: it’s a Cobb salad)

In which I rebuild a bottom-of-the-line 1980s Abu Garcia Cardinal GL3 spinning reel when I could have just bought a new one.

The feeling of health….the full-noon trill….the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.

Have you reckoned a thousand acres much? Have you reckoned the earth much?
Have you practiced so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

A few light kisses….a few embraces….a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,

Great milestone in birding yesterday. After more cardinals and robins than I could count this spring, I spotted a mourning dove on my patio. I’ve probably seen 1,000 in my lifetime, but this is the first I paid attention to.

The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belched words of my voice….words loosed to the eddies of the wind,

The smoke of my own breath,
Echoes, ripped, and buzzed whispers….loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine,
My respiration and inspiration….the beating of my heart….
The passing of blood and air through my lungs,

I called my branch of the Dallas Public Library to ask about my book hold. The person who answered spoke to me for 5 minutes about how their system was affected by a ransomware attack and why my book wasn’t ready. Amazing customer service for a product that costs literally $0.

The atmosphere is not a perfume….it has no taste of the
distillation….it is odorless,
It is in my mouth forever….I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.

After two months of preparation and studying up on the art and science of bass fishing, I gave up and caught my first one with a piece of burned hamburger meat.

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes….the shelves are crowded with with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease….observing a spear of summer grass.

I’ll be posting 300 characters or so of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, 1855 edition, every day until it’s done or I change my mind. Seems a good way to re-read it.

I bought my first fishing license from a sassy, transgender goth. I support all of those things. I just… wasn’t expecting it at Bass Pro Shop.

People over 60 don’t need a password keychain. They need a literal keychain with Bluetooth password keys on it. Why can’t we make that? “Mom, this one is for Facebook. Lose it.”

A forgotten casualty of the pandemic: Coffee in waiting rooms.