How anyone offended by a: How anyone offended by a Chinese man eating with chopsticks and an Indian man riding an elephant is beyond me. We have our cultures and our stereotypes. What a bland ugly world some people want. Arrogant pomps think that they can parent the world into cardboard cut-outs. If you let it happen it will. Where is the push back? The nerve on his birthday to strike all Seuss books from educational reading lists. The world just got a lot less kinder, free er and a whole lot dumber. Heck yeah I am mad. Come at me you sensoring birches.
My mother use to get both the: My mother use to get both the flu shot and the pneumonia shot every year... She died from complications after getting pneumonia. People get the flu every year, thousands die, every year, it was never called a pandemic. Aids killed thousands. It was never called a pandemic. This "pandemic" just so happened to be on an election year... Just saying.
I think I had read this poem: I think I had read this poem before. Perhaps a different version of it. It did say revised. Regardless... I find it quite lovely with a feathery gentleness and passionate adoration for the muse of your poetic heart.
The infinite remains infinite: The infinite remains infinite through the finite lens of our humanity.
BUT learning is so fun-da-men-tal. Perfection would be such a lonely state of being, and, perhaps why any of this exists. I'm quite sure we are entertaining.
The first line... I laughed,: The first line... I laughed, out loud actually.
The second two lines... I feel your pain.
The last three lines...amen to the simple pleasures of life
Thank you so much for reading: Thank you so much for reading the poem and commenting. What the event of those several days in July, 1976, represented was my escape---at least in spirit---from the shadow of my parents. My mother's favorite phrase, "You're just the little boy around here," was as applicable then (after I had reached the age of consent) as when I had first heard it, sometime before kindergarten. What the person I call, in these poems, Shamirian (which is a Biblical name turned into an appellation) gave me was a sense of identity and community (c.b. channel 22) which liberated me from the shadow of Lloyd and Betty. That's why they hated him so vigorously and relentlessly. Even decades later, they spoke of him, and of that time in my life, with the utmost contempt and bitterness.