How It Sometimes Feels

The Origin of Baseball

Someone had been walking in and out
Of the world without coming
To much decision about anything.
The sun seemed too hot most of the time.
There weren't enough birds around
And the hills had a silly look
When he got on top of one.
The girls in heaven, however, thought
Nothing of asking to see his watch
Like you would want someone to tell
A joke - "Time,"they'd say, "what's
That mean - Time?", laughing with the edges
Of their white mouths, like a flutter of paper
In a madhouse. And he'd stumble over
General Sherman or Elizabeth B.
Browning, muttering, "Can't you keep
Your big wings out of the aisle?" But down
Again, there'd be millions of people without
Enough to eat and men with guns just
Standing there shooting each other.

So he wanted to throw something
And he picked up a baseball.

by Kenneth Patchen

Long Road Home

There seem to me...

few things sadder than old blue curtains held up by thumbtacks.

Jimmy Dale Bland: Double Death

So maybe you had to run get milk this morning or your neck feels a little funny because you slept on a weird pillow; maybe you're holed up in a little motel mountain room trying to write the great American something or other and all you're coming up with are cryptic little poems called "Bud says;" maybe summer's going too fast or not fast enough and they fired you or gave you a job you don't just love; maybe you're hungry or sleepy or feeling fat or your hair looks a little crooked or you've lost all faith in god and humankind and you haven't had a slice of cake in months--oh reader, it could be worse! You could be this man:

Jimmy Dale Bland

Not only is cancer eating up his insides and the doctors promising him no more than six months, the good state of Oklahoma is speeding up the process by executing him this afternoon. Thank you very much, Jimmy Dale, your services on this here planet are no longer needed. Wow. And I just thought having a last name like "Bland" was bad.

Donate to Benefit Autism Research

All that money burning holes in your pocket? Get rid of some of it! In lieu of pelting me and Cody with serving spoons, donate to Autism Speaks. Go on; do it now!

Through the Broken Window

pink plastic tulips
an empty blue suitcase
dust