Cher Readers: All ways here are my ways. Control your Flamingo.
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Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
- Mary Oliver
Thank you for your kind concern and notes. I was so sick. You cheered me up while I was in misery. I am much better. I still need to put 5 pounds back on. A stiff wind would blow me over.
I have been submitting some of my essays to Medium. If you are a writer you join, then you write, then they 'pay' you. So far I have made $1.67. I had to do something when I was so miserable; knew I could push buttons. This is the first thing I have written that is new. Too hurting. Except for comments. I will die with a mean trashmouth sigh of complaint gently escaping my once painted mouth.
So a funny thing happened. I decided to contribute to a publication on Medium called Bouncin' and Behavin'. The Editor Jason Provencio wanted fun material others may censor. Medium tends whitebread.
And because I was sick, I went to bed and thought no more of my reckless remark."I have two categories in which you are bound to find something evil" I boasted.
1. Filth and Dirt and
2. Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll.
Surely have something evil there. I will go through and look."
The Popular Posts function in left column is automatic. Some folks from medium and some civilians got curious about how low I might go. I have been laughing and astonished at what folks have chosen to read. All of a sudden I have hits like I did when Bede was writing his Music articles. Hordes have galloped through this space. And then it gets quiet again.
When I had moments of consciousness, I rose from my bed of pain and my oxycodone haze and came to read blog. Was anyone coming by in spite of my long silence? Oh yes they were. I got to watch a parade of my articles go by, some of which I forgot I had written.
I embarrassed myself some. Tearing Eric Cantor's tits off with my teeth? It is not the perversion that concerns me. I was trying to do political analysis in that opus. And I relapsed to stand up instead. I am really proud of my work.
I have a good poem or two hidden in this mess. Some intelligent and thoughtful Readers have contributed good Articles about Art, Music, Society. I have spent a decade creating this (Diary, Memoir, Howl of Pain and Lustful Thoughts, Ship of Cheerful Fools and SJWs) or whatever it is. I glad I did not miss it. We have been having such fun. Andiamo.
