My Job Snack

I make signs. Signs like this. HOW CAN MY LIFE GO WRONG

Snack Option

Black Canyon Snackies

Things:

-an old tonic bottle
-a phonograph
-some twiney webs
-a rocking chair
-a cake
-a corncob pipe
-candles
-a lock box

A dream song:

Leaving Las VegaSnack

I used to write a lot of poetry.

Now it's two years later

and I'm stuck on a plane

with some schoolmarmy flight attendants,

a dude from Vassar on my left flank,

a chick from Bard on my right,

a hacking cough, Claritin notwithstanding,

and some Rilke.

They put us in a hangar

to dry the ice off our wings

so we left two hours late.

I have no way out of Vegas,

which some would deem no awful thing.

Maybe I'll stay at the Excalibur

and walk around and take pictures

or collect porn advertisements

for my yet-to-be-titled poen scrapbook.

Maybe I'll rent a car

and be slightly afraid as I venture,

alone,

across the Hoover dam

into the darkness and subsequent light.

The future holds so much potential.

The world is full of possibility.

-scribbled last Saturday, on a plane (eventually) headed home for the holidays.

Yankee Snack

Yankees' postseason absence 'weird'
Seeing Cathedral dark will be new experience for many
By Mark Newman / MLB.com

Not gonna lie...I'm pretty stoked. Schadenfreude?

Text Snack

Snacklog

Originally emailed November 8, 2007

Subject: Midnight Snacks

"We mortals, men and women, devour many a disappointment between breakfast and dinner-time; keep back the tears and look a little pale about the lips, and in answer to inquiries say, "Oh, nothing!" Pride helps us; and pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our own hurts- not to hurt others."

-George Eliot, Middlemarch

fotografia courtesy of me