Concerto for blunt instrument

An irregular heartbeat from d.o. to you. Not like a daily kos, more like a sometime sloth. Fast relief from the symptoms of blogarrhea and predicated on the understanding that the world is not a stage for our actions, rather it is a living organism upon which we depend for our existence.

Monday, November 24, 2008

O eight thanks

while we're giving thanks
be glad if no one's shooting
at you, in the desert or
from the blind, a platform
dressed in camo or blood
red, the last color we saw
has changed, pray for that
give thanks out of the blue
just in time we hope
to save the planet and
what's left of tattered
documents penned by hand
long before social networking
was done alone, thanks
for broken banks and an
opening for what's real:
your warm embrace, words that
smooth the edges of this page
a family at the table with
little to argue, forgiving