The muses’ decision to sing or not to sing is never based on the elevation of your moral purpose—they will sing or not regardless.

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Wednesday, October 20, 2010

The Transporter - Part 1



I enter room 376 at Good Samaritan Hospital to transport an older gentlemen to the ultra sound department for some testing. I am immediately hit with a wall of shit stench, it knocks me back a bit but I step forward. "Hi, I am with transportation here to take you to ultra sound for testing." The old man sitting casually in front of his bed says slowly in a low crackly voice "OK ... that sounds good. Thank you so much young man." So I move the stretcher into the room swimming through the shit stench which is stronger now and ask him if he can stand up and get on the stretcher on his own. He replies calmly "Why, yes I sure can." I lock the stretcher and lower the railing and bed to make it easier for him to get on. "Anytime you're ready Mr. Brake." "Hold on, Hold on, give me one minute young man." "Is there anything you need help with sir?" "Oh no, I just need to go to the bathroom." "Oh, that's fine. Would you like some help getting there?" "Oh no, no, no. If you could just hand me that roll right over there." And sure enough there it was, a roll of toilet paper on the table next to me. Then the whole situation came into focus. The old man was crapping on a plastic toilet in front of his bed the entire time I was in the room with him, carrying on a conversation no less. I can see him now, sitting nonchalantly with his gown on draped to the floor, perfectly covering the plastic toilet he is on and happy to talk to a young man who just entered the room. I hand him the roll and quickly unlock the stretcher move outside and tell him to holler when he's done. Soon enough he says "All ready." and I get him situated and we are off to ultra sound.

More adventures to follow....

Friday, October 15, 2010

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Age Ode

Turn dead bolts, nail the particle board, set cement, prop chairs against the doors How do you hold on to what isn't yours The big boy who broke the diving board, is dead-- also his goatee is still warm The woman down the street, is dead too, her husband asphyxiating in the garage as the car runs No Dinner
What can be said over ashes
Problems, too young to have become this old Have they heard down on shrewsbury street Decked in acid washed button-ups, diets and heels They're too old to be this young?
What happened, what can be done
Buy ten percent less energy, buy local vegetables, buy garden seeds, buy more used clothing, buy a compost kit, buy enlightening books, buy an accordion, buy an engagement ring, buy a house and land to put it, buy a crib
And a child is put in it.

Monday, October 4, 2010

To Bottomless Manhattans for All

We start with the philosopher's protagonist
Hiding in the pages of a blasphemous sermon
A thought, an inkling, a form

The check's on the table
The number is on the line

He remembers that phrase
A profound piece of philosophical rhetoric
A speech, a dialogue, an argument

The money's coming soon
Bills must be paid

These ideas shall take hold
An orator made famous
A change, a chance, a condition

Everything must sparkle
Everything must shine

Followers