The Leader’s lips are indigo. Drawn by the ghostly,
trembling hand of fate that tells, soundlessly, the tale
of Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus for thirty silver
coins. Mr. Minority Leader takes no lessons from Judas,
whose bowels erupted and cast him into Potter’s Field.
Machiavelli is his man, patron saint of power and
unrelenting lust. Silver will rot your lips, Mr. Leader,
invade your bowels, and corrode your grasp on power.
Do you feel the bile rising?
verses carved in truth and beauty,
seeing through the pain
By Susan Caba
We are all confined, to one degree or another, by the strictures of COVID-19 quarantine orders. Each of us responds in different ways to the limitations. Many worry, of course, about the well-being of loved ones. Some chafe at being told we can’t go out to restaurants, mingle with friends or wander our usual haunts. Others struggle to survive, emotionally or economically.
Everyone must find their own ways to cope.
As in any disaster, art somehow rears its lovely head to help make sense…
Snowbound and disinclined to wield a shovel against the cold confection piled like meringue across her driveway, poet Sarah Freligh chose, instead, to fight the weather with words.
She challenged fellow writers on Facebook to a Snow Day Boot Camp: “Make a list of things you’ve outgrown,” she wrote. “Start with concrete objects like jeans, bras, and pencil skirts, then move to the more abstract — mean friends, bad habits, worrying about how your hair looks in Wegmans. Then write a poem/flash fiction or nonfiction that follows your list — what you’ve outgrown, what you can feel yourself outgrowing.”
“As I was walking through our house one night, a smelly, fierce, roaring black bear appeared out of a dark corner and chased me up the stairs. He almost caught me.”
The bear in question had quite a few teeth and a long, pink tongue which he waggled as he roared at the bottom of the curving staircase.
“I ran as fast as I could, slammed the door on his nose, and leaped to safety deep beneath the covers of my bed. The bear made one last horrible roar and left.”
The words belong to Catherine Augusta Rademacher Gibson, recalling…
We were hemmed in by a pack of gaily painted and be-ribboned trucks on a busy two-way street in Jaipur, India. The command to “blow horn” was decoratively painted on the back of every one of those trucks, sometimes twice.
Not that anyone needs persuasion. Blowing horns is the common language of India’s drivers. They chatter constantly to one another. Some favor the short, continuous toot. Others prefer a long blast. Together, the cacophony calls to mind a discordant orchestral warm-up session. And if there are no other vehicles on the road? Drivers blow the horn to break the silence.
When I see Sarah Sanders, I think of Dora Maar.
Picasso never made a factual portrait of his muse, the beautiful Surrealist photographer Dora Maar. He didn’t portray her with the lissome, graceful curves he devoted to a previous lover, Marie-Thérèse Walter. Dora was his “weeping woman,” shown simultaneously in profile and full face, with sharply angled features and harsh shadows.
Art, Picasso said, “is an instrument of war…against brutality and darkness.” …
Dear Senator McCain,
So, here we are again at the intersection of your commitment to the values and traditions of the Senate, and your loyalty to GOP leadership — and in particular, to your good friend Senator Lindsey Graham.
The future of our health-care policy hangs on your decision. Which will you choose, integrity and high-minded values or partisan politics? Will you vote for the last-ditch, barely-there bill hastily concocted by Senators Graham and Bill Cassidy to repeal and replace the Affordable Health Care Act? Or will you vote against?
“If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation.” Abigail Adams, 1776
With all due respect to Senator John McCain of Arizona, his vote didn’t swing the health care decision — the “ladies” did.
The “no” votes of Republican Senators Susan Collins of Maine and Lisa Murkowski of Alaska anchored the defeat of the GOP’s repeated efforts to kill the Obamacare. …
“Heart.” President Trump wanted Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell to deliver a revision of Obamacare with “heart.” Which is a laugh — one heartless, amoral man expecting possibly the only other American politician more heartless, more amoral than himself to deliver a healthcare proposal at least tinged with compassion.
And, of course, the proposed Senate replacement for the Affordable Care Act — unveiled yesterday after weeks of secrecy — doesn’t have heart. …