Higamus-Hogamus Category:
The famed Japanese astronaut Giganto Wunzo picked his way laterally across the sheer sandstone cliff. One dilatory motion, and it was almost certain doom with a fall on the jagged basalt outcrop, 200 feet below. While two hungry ravens eyed this prospective mid-day meal from their vantage point on the cliff edge above, the sallow countenance of the wily flyer grimaced. He was thinking of the sordid details of his entire existence, as his whole life flitted before his eyes in the shape of rectangular cartoons: how he had corrupted the morals of the half-caste Ofelia, by not realizing that her private parts sloped on the diagonal; how he had shabbily treated his hulking bronzed assistant Fujigmo, by tossing him scraps of one sort or another throughout their tenuous encounters; how he had emasculated his partner Dorkus Maximus, by entrapping him in a bizarre relationship with the eunuch Mariko.
Giganto tensed as he psychologically prepared himself for his next furtive step. One un-thinking detail and it was curtains for him. As he inched his way across the vertical cliff, fragments of sandstone crumbled and fell among the basalt boulders, leaving a trail of skittering pebbles. He thought of himself being similarly pulverized, since there seemed to be no further avenue for either descent or ascent back up the deteriorating cliff face. But suddenly his cellphone rang out the rare Beethoven melody, which signaled that something ominous was being messaged onto his voicemail- something vital! With the one free finger left to him, in his precarious stance, he furtively punched the single button which would vocalize the information- possibly yielding the only instruction which would indicate the way out of his life-threatening position.
Immediately it BELLOWED: “DISREGARD PREVIOUS MESSAGE”.
Today, AFTER ALL, is April 1, 2015!
EDITORIAL:
Is Man fowling his own Nest? Cattle- heading for the slaughter, even when in a large range, pollute their waterholes! What can you do to offset the INCREASING TEMPERATURES, Ozone Hole formation, RISING SEA LEVEL, WEATHER Extremes, and Anxiety caused by these FEATURES?
1. Walk, or ride a bicycle;
2. Raise a Garden, and exercise- while eating less;
3. Use labor-intensive activities, NOT labor-saving devices;
4. Recycle, REUSE, Revamp, and RELAX;
5. Develop HAND-SKILLS- Crafts; and,
6. Look to yourself for SOLUTIONS!
Yarbrough- Poet of the 60s:
EDITORIAL:
Is Man fowling his own Nest? Cattle- heading for the slaughter, even when in a large range, pollute their waterholes! What can you do to offset the INCREASING TEMPERATURES, Ozone Hole formation, RISING SEA LEVEL, WEATHER Extremes, and Anxiety caused by these FEATURES?
1. Walk, or ride a bicycle;
2. Raise a Garden, and exercise- while eating less;
3. Use labor-intensive activities, NOT labor-saving devices;
4. Recycle, REUSE, Revamp, and RELAX;
5. Develop HAND-SKILLS- Crafts; and,
6. Look to yourself for SOLUTIONS!
Yarbrough- Poet of the 60s:
Stanyan Street
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You've filled completely
this first November day with Sausalito and sign language canoe and coffee ice cream and your wide eyes. And now unable to sleep because the day is finally going home because your sleep has locked me out I watch you and wonder at you. I know your face by touch when it's dark I feel the smile that isn't there
I know the profile of your sleeping face
the sound of you sleeping. Sometimes I think you were all sound kicking free of covers adjusting shutters moving about in the bedroom taking minutes of our precious time. I know the hills and the gullies of your body the curves the turns. I have total recall of you and Stanyan Street because I knew it will be important later. It's quiet now. Only the clock, moving toward rejection tomorrow breaks the stillness.
There are golden apples to be picked
and green hills to climb
and meadows to run
when you're young.
There are roaring rivers to be crossed
and bridges to build
and wild oats to sow
as you grow.
But later on the other side of time
the apples no longer taste sweet
bridges fall down, meadows turn brown
as night falls upon
in a little room
on Stanyan Street
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