In the dream I am in the hands
Of two women, perhaps on a beach,
A couch, or a bench on a country lane,
Fully clothed as at theater or public
It was just another August morning with me waiting for my green tea to brew. Out of the blue I started singing the Lord’s Prayer in Latin: “Pater Noster, qui es in chaelis, santificetur nomen tuum …” As if on schedule and on cue…
Mad Cow is loose on the land
Not just a poser and his merry band
Not just the suck-ups that follow the stink
Not just the disciples with a nod and a wink
Sometimes Facebook coughs up interesting and useful nuggets. The one I received via the C.G. Jung Foundation in NYC fits the description. Jung writes in his 1927 essay “Woman in Europe”: Most men are erotically blinded. “They commit the unpardonable mistake of…
Colette didn’t know which end was up, not because she was looking through the looking glass, though that view might be an accurate description of her life, high heels and all, but because she awoke with Yeats on her brain, her mother in her heart and a hole in her…