Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

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.

Category: Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

Poem: Bushwhacked

Poetry is the last thing

that would ever occur to letters.

The words would testify if they could speak

that the process makes them queasy.

Most writers are ashamed to leave

an unintended verse.

Feeling they were bushwacked

while on their way to longer bursts.

But I prefer this short shit,

cause I know the reader will peek.


Tangled up in Genitals

I have decided that only gay men can be genuinely kind and talented. Heterosexual men can be either one or the other, but never at the same time.
Young girls face a clumsy period of uncertainty when it comes to sex but with age, or if they have had two children or more than two husbands find lesbianism the obvious sensible choice.
Men seldom communicate with each other unless the subject is really big, like the universe or the Pittsburgh Steelers. Women never allow silence to invade their relationships with other women. Just watch them.
Women have no big themes. They are not philosophers. This fact has always confounded me because I know a very reasonable explanation is somehow hidden here. It might be that women are by nature merely trivial but it is, however, certainly plausible that all philosophy is bullshit as well. This is just one of the open questions in my life.
The mind boggles.


PUBLISHED: December 8, 2018
FILED UNDER: Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

With all this believing you would think one of us would be right.

Entitlement and Enlightenment

Don’t hunt for Enlightenment in the provinces of the poor. Only the rich have the spare time to achieve it.


Convenience is Temporary

The only app I had as a boy was a light switch. My father slapped me with regularity for not using it. He was cheap, having lived through something called The Depression. Depression is now a form of autism suffered by grade-schoolers not likely to gain entry into the Ivy Leagues.
My kids believe the “rapture” will come with the announcement of a new Mac operating system. Mine will be the instant when all the lights in our house are turned off at once.


Burning Ants

I spent hours chasing ants on my hands and knees trying to burn them with a large magnifying glass angled to the summer sun’s rays. I had built fires this way in Boy Scouts. I used twigs, not ants, for that.
The ants often adopted a “clump together” stratagem in their insect terror, and this was a bad move.
In retrospect, there is a cruelty in children that blends agreeably with innocence.


Having babies and getting fat

I stayed home with my children when they were born. I got fat. It took twenty-five years to slim down. Women have been working on staying slender after childbirth for fifty thousand years. I was unprepared. I handled the problem like a man. I had a heart attack. Tidy


Going for the Gold on faceBook

I believe I am the most persistently unread author on Facebook. I am aided of course by the fact that my readership is old and slowly dying off.


Dinner with my TV

My life’s industry has been watching TV.
Its programs and advertisements determined who I am. Because of the detergents and deodorants they hawked, I am cleaner than any human being that came before me. I am the king of my material world.
Until college, dinner was always in front of a TV.
There was a great deal of nervous cautioning about television and children back then.
It was all proved wrong, of course.


Music and Room Service

For most of my adult life, I have had room service — one band after another with varying degrees of opulence. This morning it came to me that I must be something of an expert. Now how to put this to a common good?

%d bloggers like this: