Maggie's Farm

We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.

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Monday, April 20. 2015

The Regular


From Sipp's forthcoming book, The Regular:



I couldn’t buy her a birthday present. I have no money. That is to say: there is no money. Money can’t be had.


I have seen money. Felt it in my hand. I have wasted it one day and built temples to my fellow man the next with money, with no good reason to do either. I have watched it slumber in a bank book with my name on it waiting for nothing more than a notion and a signature. All gone. Gone for good, I think but must not say. She hears everything I say. I utter the sounds but I don’t listen to what I’m saying

Posted by Bird Dog in The Culture, "Culture," Pop Culture and Recreation at 17:09 | Comments (2) | Trackbacks (0)

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I posted this as well. It hurt to read it.
#1 Assistant Village Idiot (Link) on 2015-04-20 22:23 (Reply)
Sorry. I'm not feeling it. More than a bit overwrought.

Too many metaphors spoil the broth.
#2 Earl T on 2015-04-20 23:57 (Reply)

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