Fat Man Singing

I adored the blurb you gave me so much

I wrote you a thank you blurb, all in italics

now sitting cross-legged in the faculty parking lot

the sky the color of tenure

conifers and elk-upchuck envigorating the pine-scented conservatism

nothing ma! no, we’re not enriching uranium!

oh only in dreams do I get to relapse

--from Jim Behrle's "I Can No Longer Be Friends with Professors"

Ah, the reciprocal back scratching, house of mirrors, glass bubble existence of poebiz, all tucked nicely into the military-industrial complex! Well, thank you, Jim! Soon enough, though, it will be goodbye to all that.

Memo to Kenny: We will not become more machine-like in the future. Quite the reverse. Like it or not, we'll be yanked from our virtual, surrogate existence and plopped into the splendor and squalor of life in the flesh. Down with the tyranny of the eye! Make some room for the nose, will ya?


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