What's with all this light verse? It's not like I ever publish any of it.
Oh well. Here is . . .
The cockroach will outlive us all --
So everybody say.
Why I should care this, being dead,
Is more than I can -- hey!
When all the human race is gone
Extinct and am no more,
Then surely no one can complain
That this poem neither scans nor rhymes.
And then I wrote:
There is always music in the house of love. Sometimes it is so quiet that you have to close your eyes and still your heart to hear it. Sometimes it is absolutely silent. But it is always there.
Ships came and went in the harbor. Jugglers sang in the street.
An Anecdote That Starts Out Looking Like It's Going to be About Janis Ian But Which is Actually About Bob the Musician
Last Friday I went to hear Janis perform at the Sellarsville Theatre. Good show. At one point, though, she began to say
Good God! Am I going to find out what this anecdote was all about? Stay tuned. Though I warn you that in all probability the fraction stops there.