Obiter Dicta
Those for whom no ritual applies,
no text supplies the purpose of a day,
no day becomes the rock on which we stand,
no angel trumpets guidance from a star,
no star determines who we really are
Those for whom no ritual applies,
no text supplies the purpose of a day,
no day becomes the rock on which we stand,
no angel trumpets guidance from a star,
no star determines who we really are
Image: “Self-Portrait as a Prep School Llama” by James Valvis. “The Boardroom at the Edge of the Field” was written by Caiti Quatmann for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, December 2024, and selected as the Editor’s Choice.
When they come, they bring the fearful dark,
like English majors looking for work,
feather-caped, bare-faced in red or black.
Praise deep mineral veins under rich dirt,
and fossilized remains of dinosaurs turning themselves into gas
for our benefit. Praise the exhausted earth,
miles and miles of subsidized corn
and cattle lowing from their hell-holes
in automated milking barns.
Image: “Self-Portrait as a Prep School Llama” by James Valvis. “The Grass Ceiling” was written by Kevin West for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, December 2024, and selected as the Artist’s Choice.
I’ve been dead for years, so this place suits me.
Sixty thousand channels thanks to cable.
Love the game room and those herbal teas.
Everyone remembers Betty Grable.