So good... takes me away into my fantasies. . . If I may, your poem reminded me of this poem... The Bees Are Dying
Bees are dying they tell me.
Understood be it that we cannot change a thing.
I choose to hunker down and place my head between my knees instead of getting up and doing anything worthwhile about it instead I'll buy the bread that isn't organic because it's twelve cents cheaper
and the trip to the store is faster in my car instead of on my bike and I'm expecting that call from my father and I really cannot afford to miss it because he calls so rarely and I just want to connect with him before he dies
and I really cannot care about almonds costing twice as much next year when I cannot afford beef this year and the grasslands won't last anyway because the globe is warming and there's not enough rain to make hay and why should I care
about the poisons on the fields when I still cannot find a bug-killer strong enough to rid my house of cockroaches - those roaches who can live for a year on a drop of grease left on the back of the stove when I last fried donuts for a treat on one of those
rare days when I felt good but the bees are dying and I am sad to think that soon we will all be dead because we cannot stop the madness and I know that the bees are dying and once again I'll buy the bag of bleached white flour grown with roundup seeds
from Monsanto because it makes such nice white sweet bread.
In the episode THE ODYSSEY part 3, Timmy has given up hope that Lassie, lost for months, will ever return... and is about to bury her toys at their secret spot when he hears a familiar bark over the hill....
one of my mom's best friends is a woman named marsena who is 101. just now is in a nursing facility and my mom is her advocate. just last week had someone written up for "harsh" treatment that made marsena cry, for no good reason. it is necessary to have an advocate at these facilities, no matter how awesome they are. marsena would be living on her own if it wasn't for a bad burn to her leg last november due to soaking her feet in too hot epson salts, etc.
one of my mom's best friends is a woman named marsena who is 101. just now is in a nursing facility and my mom is her advocate. just last week had someone written up for "harsh" treatment that made marsena cry, for no good reason. it is necessary to have an advocate at these facilities, no matter how awesome they are. marsena would be living on her own if it wasn't for a bad burn to her leg last november due to soaking her feet in too hot epson salts, etc.
My old pal Lawrence. I met him while working on an old house next door to where he lived. He was 95 yo at that time and was amazing. I took this pic on his 97th birthday. He was a walking history book and a most disarming creature. He always swore to me he would live to be 100, and he did, passing at 100yrs 8 mos. in '05. I have so many interesting memories of him. I loved and miss him very much.
My old pal Lawrence. I met him while working on an old house next door to where he lived. He was 95 yo at that time and was amazing. I took this pic on his 97th birthday. He was a walking history book and a most disarming creature. He always swore to me he would live to be 100, and he did, passing at 100yrs 8 mos. in '05. I have so many interesting memories of him. I loved and miss him very much.
