Wednesday, May 26, 2010



Thursday, May 20, 2010

MIỄN PHÍ CHẤT BÉO SỮA ......

I AM CỦA TANZANIA KHỈ GOODALL JANE GÕ VỀ CHUỐI. MY. NGÓN TAY LÀ SANTA BÉ CỦA NHỮNG NGƯỜI GIÚP ĐỠ HY VỌNG CỦA TÔI LÀ MỘT LƯỢNG MƯA LẺ TẺ - NÀO ĐƯỢC NÊU RA MỘT CƠN MƯA XỐI XẢ TRÚT TRONG TẤT CẢ CÁC MÔI TRƯỜNG SÁNG TẠO. I AM THESEUS, UNSPOOLING SỢI VÀNG,. SISYPHUS RA MỒ HÔI KHÓ KHĂN. BUKOWSKI, SCRIBBLING ĐI THUÊ NHÀ Ở.. MỘT DÒNG SÔNG LUÔN LUÔN CHẢY TÔI LÀ CƠN ÁC MỘNG CỦA SỰ ĐÌNH TRỆ VÀ THẦN CỦA TRÍ TƯỞNG TƯỢNG. KHÔNG THỰC SỰ ... TÔI CHỈ THẤY MỆT MỎI VÀ ĐẦY ĐỦ CỦA POO ..

He spent hours assembling his spacesuit




yet forgot to put on a pair of clean underwear
to put in his contact lenses
and to send his last will and testament via Ansible
His socks had holes in them
he had forgotten to update his Virgo Supercluster of galaxies Facebook status
totally spaced paying his monthly bill to the House Atreides
and slowly smacked his space helmet in zero-gravity frustration
when he realized that he forgot to take out the trash to the Dianoga compactor
The stars still looked pretty, though
and he swore to do all of these things 
when he got back
or maybe soon
maybe...tomorrow.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Toys and books arrive in the mail and you don"t remember ordering them because you were drunk.

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

A Journey - By Edward Field

When he got up that morning everything was different:
He enjoyed the bright spring day
But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it.

And walking down the street to the railroad station
Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks
It was a long time since he had breathed so simply.

Tears filled his eyes and it felt good
But he held them back
Because men didn't walk around crying in that town.

Waiting on the platform at the station
The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen:
The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold.

And in its time it came screeching in
And as it went on making its usual stops,
People coming and going, telephone poles passing,

He hid his head behind a newspaper
No longer able to hold back the sobs, and willed his eyes
To follow the rational weavings of the seat fabric.

He didn't do anything violent as he had imagined.

He cried for a long time, but when he finally quieted down
A place in him that had been closed like a fist was open,

And at the end of the ride he stood up and got off that train:
And through the streets and in all the places he lived in later on
He walked, himself at last, a man among men,
With such radiance that everyone looked up and wondered.