The clearest description I have managed so far about my blog is that it is not about cats. In general, I find predators pretty predictable while prey on the other-hand, because they live in universes of anxiety, develop more textured personalities. I also have as a writer a deft hand when it comes to making matters worse, so of course , the already panicky are ready made for me. I will try to grow this blog into an assortment of laughs, because that is what my life has mostly taught me to do. I will use the famous people I have known to get your attention and then tell you small but many times wonderful things about them. I will never name the ones I say ugly things about but I hope you will guess who they are.
Poem: If You Can’t Watch
by Regis Boff
comes with its particular novelty.
While birth plods into life
with a sloppy inaccuracy,
tumbling incoherently through
the thick, sticky afterbirth,
always shackled to incomprehension.
Still we guess birth to be miraculous
while it’s endgame, death
is reviewed as a misfortune,
accompanied by a chorus of “if only’s.”
and the tardy howls of loss.
But of what good is the marvelous,
if you can’t, watch?