Promise not to tell, now…

I’ll say, but promise not to tell:
I’m tired to my last bone cell
And want to sleep under my desk
Where nobody can find me

The truth is, I’m a tired cat –
I don’t where my gumption’s at –
I’m more static than statuesque
So please, go on, don’t mind me


It never goes away.

Whatever it is, it bothers us

Wherever we go, it follows us

And we can’t handle it;

It’s raining and it’s snowing and

It’s going to take awhile

It’s faded, hardly glowing and

It’s really hard to smile.

It’s all just so ridiculous

It matters not a whit:

It frankly makes me really tired

Come to think of it.

A Carton of Memories

A lonely, frightened freshman.

An Extreme Tale

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” — Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

When was the last time that sentence accurately described your life?


I was only fourteen and
Was suffering in grade nine
A lonely frightened freshman
Seeking then to redefine

Myself into a man or maybe
A grown boy, at least;
In spite of my best efforts
I was much less man than beast

And it was in my English class
That Ms. Hornbuckle taught
That we began to read a book
I grew to like a lot

And by about, oh, halfway through
A lifelong love was set:
For I was reading Dickens
And I haven’t finished yet

The bloody revolution off in France
Where it took place;
It took my from my worries
Back through time, and at a pace

Breathtaking in its drama. And
When we approached the end
The pattern had emerged, and I
Began to read again

This wondrous book, so full of hate
And love, and so much more:
It was a far, far better book
Than I had read before

So I had found in Dickens
Much to reread and to savor –
And though no Sydney Carton
Might have been
Just a touch

The Friendship Optimization Algorithm

Because people hate people.

People hate people
Who have no opinions
No passion

The only people they hate worse
Are people who have opinions
That differ from their own

You can become popular as follows

Care deeply
Be passionate
Have lots of opinions
Never tell anyone what they are

That way

You’ll have lots of friends

At your premature heart attack funeral