I hate exercise. It’s boring, and hard work. I’m lazy. I wish exercise were a service you could have done for you, like a haircut. “I’m going to get my exercise done today.” Instead of a brisk walk up the avenue, you could be pulled along on a cart that has a meter up front; you’d watch those calories tick away like miles on the odometer of a speeding car. I am still unemployed. I […]
Read moreCategory: Writing
Retirement
I think I’m going to retire wormlips.com, and least for now. I’m boring myself. That wasn’t a problem when I was the only one reading this, but now that my readership has climbed into the low double-digits, it’s no longer All About Me. Writing a blog has been many good things for me. Most of all, it’s kept me alert. It’s easy to take for granted the non-events of day-to-day life. But when you decide […]
Read moreShredder
This afternoon I was lying on my bed, in the same pajamas I’ve worn for three days now, baby Ember peacefully asleep on my chest, when I realized suddenly what I had to do. Right away. I lifted floppy Emmy and handed her to her mother, and descended immediately into the basement. In dark corners dwell scores of teetering boxes: camping gear, baby clothes, reels of quarter-inch audio tape, framed paintings, thirty years of tax […]
Read moreOdd Poem Exercise
Today in our intercultural yadda yadda class, we were instructed to fill in a form answering abstract questions about our history and then plunk selected answers strategically into spaces in partially completed sentences drawn from a poem by George Ella Lyon. I won’t read my result in class, but here it is for you: I am from the chalkboard in the kitchen, From eleven pet mice and penny candy. I am from the spider room, […]
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