Fatty, fatty, two-by-four,
Can’t get through the bathroom door.
Childhood taunt

 

I used that taunt more than once in my childhood. That is perhaps forgiveable. But well into adult life I made a cruel joke about a co-worker who had a wide and ample backside. “What’s the sound of [co-worker’s name] getting out of a bucket seat?” [Pause, then insert finger into mouth and make a popping noise pulling it out.] Shame on me.

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This post, then, is an oblique attempt at atonement. The illustration is a visual pun: a pair of scissors has been busy cutting remarks. The remarks are all fool-related. “There’s no fool like an old fool” is folk wisdom. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” is, according to STAR TREK’s Pavel Chekov, a Russian saying. “They are fools, who eat fugu. But those who do not eat fugu are also fools.” comes from Japan, and refers to a sushi of blowfish that, improperly prepared, will kill whosoever eats it.

The acrostic suffers from the need to put too much content into too few lines. Here are the words, un-acrosticized for better clarity:

cruelty verbalized can be a cancer
ugliness audible: dissing of grace
tap-dance on feelings then ho-hum the answer
sic transit gloria in mists of mace
whether or not we’ll exist to thank God
is anyone’s guess but i don’t like the odds

 

From here on in, I rag nobody.
Henry Wiggen in Mark Harris’s Bang the Drum Slowly

 

Plow a furrow through the skies

Land and taxi and eat linguini

And this marvel becomes humdrum

No more worthy of note than a good night’s sleep

Explorations turn to the metaphysical

And mere ballistics cannot compete

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Pour species has taken the tendency of electrons and the combustibility of certain substances to stratospheric heights, and most of us shrug . . .

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A guy walks into a bar that is full of koala bears. “Sorry, buddy,” says the koala bartender, “you’ll have to leave.” “Why?” says the guy. “Because you don’t have the koalafications.”

Dedicated to the spirits of Poul Anderson and Gordon R. Dickson, co-creators of the Hoka, the ursinoid aliens who hilariously re-enacted various human dramas, including “Casey At the Bat” and The Marriage of Figaro.

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My Mom is in the hospital again. Probably OK, but they’ll keep her overnight for observation. Before I found out, I’d done a card called “two bodies” that began “GARY has two bodies/just as heather has two mommies . . .” and told about my flappy fleshy body being nothing special but my body of work being immortal and immense. It was typical self-aggrandizing crap, and it has now disappeared, and good riddance.

But I left Mom at her urging to go to work, and am now at the library, and, not finding the card I’d intended to post, whipped up this nearly-empty-headed one instead, just to keep every-day-in-March continuity going. I sort of like its clean near-emptiness.

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with faultlines and slippage and cracks in the crust,
our toothscapes erode and degrade–for they must.

When Piestewa Peak was Squaw Peak, the footstrikes of thousands of hikers accelerated the erosion of the mountain, especially at the base. When this became a safety issue, concrete was poured over the eroded ground in certain places. It was analogous to a dentist putting fillings in a tooth.

My own toothscape includes gullies where four extracted wisdom teeth once resided, a years-in-the-making buildup of plaque that is disgustingly visible in the front lower teeth, and the shattering and/or calving of three broken teeth. My investment in tooth care has been restricted since 2006 to dental floss, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and toothpicks, incorporated into a rigorous schedule of personal oral hygiene. I don’t eat anything harder than a crisp apple, and  I must always chew carefully, and mostly on the right side.

“Get thee to a dentistry–go!” you say? “No thanks,” I reply. I know a good-souled woman whose tooth-investment since 2006 is in the tens of thousands of dollars, and issue after issue with her much-tinkered-with mouth has come up. And my long-suffering, breathtakingly-brave younger brother Brian has had not a tooth in his head for years.

I will see a dentist, probably within the year. But not now and not soon. My toothscape helps me take nothing for granted.

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The 2016 Presidential election in these United States is the most important in American history. Heaven help us, we have two nakedly-ambitious candidates and a refreshing and visionary, yet big-odds-against, third. So I called upon all my acrostical skills to convey the embedded message: AMBITION FORCES US TO TAKE STOCK.

The words:

Rising AMBITION makes one thing so clear
Ideological FORCES adhere
Siphoning lifeblood and rubbing US raw
Sinking significance down TO a shwa
Knowledge of power can TAKE us so far
Kow-tow to no one and STOCK every shard

Finally, a humble request to the Great Undecided: Please vote for Bernie Sanders.