I Confess
To broken Vows and forgotten promises,
To fears still mired in childhood trauma.
Isn't life itself a trauma from the start?
Isn't life itself a trauma from the start?
(Bathroom of the New Museum)
~*~
Chance
I took a chance on the advice of a fellow bus rider and visited the Spectrum hub on West 23rd street to speak to an agent and plead my case for a reduced rate. All I have is internet access on my laptop. No connection to my telephone (the same old land line I've had for decades which saved both me and others who came to me during our three disasters (9/11 and two terrific storms) because when the cell towers failed and the lights went out, I could disconnect my phone from it's message machine and pop into the phone plug, thereby having the ability to call and receive. I have no cell phone. My television is not attached either. It's an old clunker that gives me many channels through a rabbit eared antennae. Plenty enough for me. The Upshot is that a kind agent switched my account over to a promotional year and my next bill is reduced by $20. It's good for a year, and when it wears off, all I have to do is go back and do it again.
~*~
Clarity and Grace
(21 minutes)
Former US Ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch impeachment hearing full remarks.
~*~
Chance
I took a chance on the advice of a fellow bus rider and visited the Spectrum hub on West 23rd street to speak to an agent and plead my case for a reduced rate. All I have is internet access on my laptop. No connection to my telephone (the same old land line I've had for decades which saved both me and others who came to me during our three disasters (9/11 and two terrific storms) because when the cell towers failed and the lights went out, I could disconnect my phone from it's message machine and pop into the phone plug, thereby having the ability to call and receive. I have no cell phone. My television is not attached either. It's an old clunker that gives me many channels through a rabbit eared antennae. Plenty enough for me. The Upshot is that a kind agent switched my account over to a promotional year and my next bill is reduced by $20. It's good for a year, and when it wears off, all I have to do is go back and do it again.
Clarity and Grace
(21 minutes)
Former US Ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch impeachment hearing full remarks.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsVoiNRyznM&feature=share&fbclid=IwAR0QsiOSj3tziX2yn0_uIGYoBqh_xCXiA79gSmtpTdpIF5jFqEzGX2oCWgw
~*~
Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table.
No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
<<>>
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
<<>>
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