stayed.

Now, where was I

when the young girl asked

"who do you like best, Michael Jackson or Prince"?

Or

at what age did you realize

that you were capable of loving?

At what hour did the ice pack

unfreeze so that  the polar bears could

not hunt seal, harp and hooded,

and yet had to settle for

sea gull  double combo's

and penguin nuggets?

In the fifth grade mother

made for me a cap of

a used stocking and sulfur

so the ring-worm wouldn't spread.

But

i'm not complaining about the 60's/

or the Loving Spoonful

or hippy sacrifice,

or Khrushchev backing down,

or anything great and ballistic.

And it doesn't matter now

if i've put on a layer of fat,

with disturbances arising from

flying and all those

associated psychological

problems.

Reviews

[Tree]

I've read this a few times already and yesterday I tried to post this elaborate review but the w/c ate it. Took the steam out of me, but here I go again... Prince was more of a true musician, I think. If you pushed his music out now it would stand the test of time, meaning it would translate well, the older stuff.... The Beautiful Ones? That was my jam in middle school... In regards to this piece, as a whole you know how much I enjoy and respect the way you not only bring history close enough for us to taste and feel, but the way you weave your own earthy, and vivid memories into them.

Well done, d

Diego

[W.k.kortas]

You can argue that life is a process of settling, be it our expectations or our midsections, and that at some point we give up on "anything great or ballistic", either because our expectations were wildly unrealistic or we were not up to the challenge of those that were only mildly unrealistic. Perhaps, it is not the realm of the beautiful people that is life's true concern (cf. the breezy Micheal-or-Prince query in the third line) but the next question--"at what age did you realize/that you were capable of loving/" Perhaps it is that, and the notion of constancy hinted at in the title, that is the true measure of ourselves and our lives.

[writing mojo]

the ambient fly on the wall during those times,
could make a feast of the extra strength roaches of today..excellent piece

[The Twin Arenas]

(exhales)

so great. thanks, bud.