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The world appears more interesting when you live more than half way to the pole. Different voices too.
"I discovered the Theory of Relativity while riding a bicycle." ~ Albert Einstein ~

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Sunday, July 31, 2005

Tomorrow GDubya will still be stupid

NASCAR Round Wego

My name is Joe.
Six Pack is what they show
on Fox TV. I d-don’t know
why tho'

Unfortunatly,when I get home, GDubya will still be president too, O O O.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Tour de France 2005 ends with Lan


Champs Elyses parade in Discovery Blue

24 July 2005

Lance Armstrong

Maillot Jaune redefined

Texas style

The headlines yesterday read,” Armstrong great, not the greatest say former greats.” I think they were saying that repeating the same thing over and over does not make it superior, does not turn a few anecdotes into the greatest story ever told. It is something Texans don’t seem to understand.

On the other hand, today's poll of the French say other wise.

Monday, July 18, 2005

Prairie Lite

I wrote this poem last month just in case during my travels someone might be curious to know how a Farm Boy from a red state ended up spending time in a big city when he culd have been fishing. Same theme as Carp's Deim on May 25.

I am not saying that everyone that lives on the prairie like this but anyway...

Prairie Futures: just around the corner

Measuring the prairie—
an endless profusion of fractal dimensions
looking simple, guileless and plain
exploding in detail, the closer the view.
Steppes, backward in time and place,
too large for humans, humans who need trees.

A human can admire a redwood.
Cut it down for a deck.
Feel in control with the sweet sawn odor.
Great height brought to the level
straight up, straight down
Completely defined by a Euclidean postulate

Treeless plain, ocean of grass
So wide the horizon cringes below the skyline
Curved Einstein lines
geometry of bison cycle time
mindless to the point of loss, incomprehensible and unbounded,
an ever changing now place

Horizons curve away
Space curves in, delirium channeled back
in desert mirages.
Moonlight finds the water filled pot holes.
Pops them out like mirrors of the stars in the night,
ephemeral like the colors of the season . . .
Jefferson sent out survey crews to make land sections
right angle squares on a flat plane
Boundaries overlapping the parallels that converge at the poles.
Jogs on plains county roads confuse straight with north
contour crossing with simplicity, but
it reassured the landless occupiers with fence lines guides.

A few generations of scourge and all that remains—
featureless enclaves of refuges—
just as before, names change, desperation their common
claim to a forgotten agrarian past.
God must have sneered when he formed it;
only boundless imagination persists in this emptiness.

The physical abandons the human primates there
They become ethereal beings that can tolerate displacement
understand death as they live, and
move through the order that surrounds them.
But their weight is not detectable,
they are creatures of light whose speed is absolute.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Paris: beauty's dilemma

The Color of Growth

Talk to the ants, they are the city
Out each morning to collect
What remains from the carnage of the preying mantis of the night

Green guys dragging green posteriors
Tending artificial rivulets
Flowing to lower levels, darker places

Beneath the streets of Paree
The shit of rich and poor
Create work for chemists and doctors

Take a second look at the green worker ants
Their tools fashioned in smoking and growling green steel
Making the street ready for the butterflies

They are so few
Infestations of a crawling crowd with one thousand legs
Spreads like mold to greet the morning sun

Beauty flees to the country
Green hillsides await