Words is Words

The first places many people will look,
are the kinds of places Revolutionist wouldn’t hang his underwear.

 

This hard-to-describe fellow
suggested that the theme song for his City should be:
“Oh, I’m Drowning In A Sea Of Air.”

 

Just barely above the din, I heard this voice:
“Well, if you’ll look at it, over from this kinda view –
Everything’s unjustified.”

 

Words are words
and news is news,
and nothing gets lost in the City;
even failures can be feature stories.

 

In the attempt to sooth his heirs,
a father told his skittish kid,
“The ‘unconscious mind’ is simply Jim Henson.”

 

A certain historian-cum-philosopher, recently noted,
“Looking back through careful study and research,
you can see that it all fits, and it all makes predictable sense,
but alas, in trying to see forward, I find myself on much less
secure ground.” (A bit later, the scholar suddenly wished
that his father was still alive so that he could privately ask him,
“Why is that?”)

J.

 

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