The Dancer stood. Then moved toward the floor. No need for another. The music moved The Dancer. Along with the others. In confident directions. Last dance. Last call.
Our place and space in this World is no more nor less important (or threatened and encroached upon) than the societal nature of…Nature itself. Can we protect and provide? Yes. We. Can.
If you were an elephant living wild in a western city…
- You’d have one two-fingered hand swinging from your face – a hand as sensitive as tumescent genitals, but which could smash a wall or pick a cherry. With that hand you’d explore your best friends’ mouths, just for the sake of friendship.
- you’d smell water two miles away and the flowers at your feet
- Grumbles from trucks and cabs would shudder through the toxic ground, tickle the lamellar corpuscles in your feet and ricochet up your bones…You’d hear with your feet, and your femurs would be microphones
- As you walked 10 miles for your breakfast you’d chatter with your friends in 10 octaves
- You’d have the happiest kind of political system, run by wise old women, appointed for their knowledge of the world and their judgment, uninterested in hierarchy for hierarchy’s sake, and seeking the greatest good for the greatest…
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It is difficult to fathom that summer is quickly but quietly eroding into another season. "What happened to all those sun-filled days?" will soon be a question asked by all true-blue Portlandians who long for sun weather, but also wet weather...and then continually complain about both. No matter. My Reader is polishing the wellies (including... Continue Reading →