Dad word list

crisp whale whales & humming birds deck so pines bold & merry shoe 8 spine super Tom thin


The cadaly at wordpress is not me.


return sun on leaves on trees wind riffles through this; return bombs and dust thrust onto, into everything, moths, eyes, water, food; return weather, inexorable blue and sun and moon or appropriate overcast; ...rodents,roaches,and books, my pets ...songs,messages,calls,sounds to be sung again,said again,shout once more


I don't understand why people blow up churches and temples and mosques. I don't understand why people hate gay people. Isn't sex why people say "the best things in life are free"? What about slavery? That slaves were expensive? That radical peace and animal rights people point out evil slave breeding programs? I don't understand why people say (this is from growing up) that people "smell bad". I'm so irreligous I lost my religion major (I felt some familial pressure there, that major) for writing an heretical thesis -- that mysticism is cultured. Mysticism = experience. I'm nearly 50. I'm supposed to have this sorted. Stupid hipsters make me seem a political conservative, just because I was raised in politics. Naivete, that ingenue factor -- so unattractive. How best to make experience more positive for everybody. Certainly not by blowing up stuff and not ensuring everybody has food and health care.


yet another play in which nothing happens

Characters: Woman with a Gun (not a real gun) Neurotic Woman with a Cellphone (either stage ring or real ring) Postal Worker (Male or Female) with a dog A Dog Person (Male or Female) with a child A Child (Male or Female) Smoker (Male or Female)   OK if audience cellphones are not turned off during play, but if they are supposed to be, gather cellphone numbers as audience enters, and call them during the play (many thanks, Paul Frank) Theatre exit door (this might not be possible if FD is alerted automatically, but bonus if alarm sounds), otherwise a door, theatre entrance, and a stage. The exit/stage door opens. Entrance, WOMAN WITH GUN. The exit/stage door opens. Entrance, a NEUROTIC WOMAN carrying a CELLPHONE, ringing. WOMAN WITH CELLPHONE (Addressing the WOMAN WITH GUN) It’s for you! Aren’t you going to answer it? A doorbell rings. No one answers it. A doorbell rings. WOMAN WITH GUN holsters gun, answers the door. A POSTAL WORKER enters with Owney the postal DOG. The phone rings again. WOMAN WITH CELLPHONE (addressing the audience) It’s your Mom. A PERSON WITH A CHILD busts in with a child (in a stroller, or held by hand) WOMAN WITH GUN I’m so glad you came! I guess Mom called. The cell phone rings. WOMAN WITH CELLPHONE It is your best friend. WOMAN WITH GUN gestures to POSTAL WORKER, DOG. S/he shakes her head. Then to PERSON WITH A CHILD, CHILD. (No.) (DOG chews on the phone. Or CHILD begins playing a loud game on the phone) SMOKER (enters, keeps door cracked open, prepares to light up) ALL No! WOMAN WITH GUN (Puts gun in mouth.) ALL screams (would be nice if someone screamed “fire” but not necessary) WOMAN WITH GUN It’s a squirt gun filled with vodka. (She takes a shot.) Want some? POSTAL WORKER WITH DOG, DOG and PERSON WITH A CHILD, CHILD EXIT through the entrance. Fin Just a reminder to turn off your cellphone, know the fire exits, quiet your children and pets, or take them outside (preferably through the entrance). We would prefer if you did not carry a weapon or drink during the performance. Please don’t smoke.




Spirit of The Beehive

My mousepad crapped out. Maurice the Mouse, or whomever, obviously not holding up his end. Hey, this is a small apartment, I thought I placed you in charge of ALL mice! So I found it difficult to pay my bills online, and walked to the blue box to mail one. I stopped at the reportedly decent Italian Restaurant on the corner -- I had seen the logs outside, but figured they were for wood oven, not fireplace -- I was right. On the return trip, I stopped by the nails place downstairs, and picked up a menu. It is actually a spa for hands and feet, kind of like a facial for hands and feet. I return to the apartment. "Spirit of the Beehive" I say. "Sounds like something you'd write." "Yes." "hands and feet are wrapped like a beehive..."