I taste something sweet in my sweat.
I wonder why they call it 'fall,'
winter
spring
summer
...?
Is this some sort of Miltonian thing?

After a run my thoughts have a rhythm, and it feels like some odd poetry-after-life-after-poetry.

shb

Referential
It starts with a bare foot in the sand, another bare foot and the groan of a beaten red backpack as I shift my weight. The sound of wind is the only sound I can hear as I look out over the prairie ( Read more... )

Still considering why we ask 'why,' it occurs to me that the question might be the answer. If it seems like such musings make yours truly sad, it's not a sad so much as a pensive. It's a shame that these days people equait pensivity (from french penser (vb meaning to think) and probably some latin root or something) with sadness, but I suppose they ( Read more... )

In all the civilizations in all the world in all time the major question of all the philosophers has been something along the lines of why. Everyone wrestled with it; noteably in my mind at the moment such philosophers included St. Augustine, Dr. Thompson, Bob Pirsig and of course Hank. Evening walks, or more acurately night-walks, are becoming a ( Read more... )

finally, an optimistic article about KatrinaNo sarcasm there, either ( Read more... )