people

by wiggly jones "the little hippie boy"

some people read thousands of books in their lives, and others never learn to read. some people do heavy labor almost every day of their lives, many others work thousands of hours in offices and stores and factories, others never work a day in their lives. most people can see, but some are born blind. some people consume tens of thousands of gallons of alcohol in their lives, and others never touch a drop. some people, such as prostitutes, have thousands of sexual experiences with thousands of different people in their lives, others have none at all. some people, such as soldiers or members of militias or security police, kill thousands of their fellow humans with their own hands, most people will never kill even one. some people spend decades, day after day, killing cows and pigs and chickens, others never see a drop of blood from any living creature deliberately spilled in their lives. millions of people write poems that no one will ever read, a tiny handful write poems that are famous and memorized by schoolchildren. some people are taught to pray as children, and continue to do so every day throughout their lives, others never say a prayer. many other examples could be cited - drinking coffee, eating doughnuts, eating cheeseburgers, doing crossword puzzles, collecting stamps or baseball cards, playing games such as chess or go or monopoly - millions do these things every day or dedicate their lives to them but many millions more never engage in these activities at all. hundreds of millions dream of becoming world famous entertainers or athletes, a minuscule handful do so. many people go through life loyal to the tribe or nation they were born into. a not inconsiderable minority embrace some different loyalty. another, perhaps larger, minority never really give a shit about anything. once every few hundred years, a person will start a religion that is embraced by millions. am i missing something? i wish all people well in their passage through this strange world.

2 poems

by corrine delmonico

names my dad used to address human females of all ages angel baby baby doll blondie boom boom cupcake cutie dear doll gorgeous honey kitten love luscious mama sugar sweetie sweetie pie names my mom used to address human males of all ages angel baby big boy boomer champ cutie doll gorgeous handsome honey lover boy muscles studly sugar sweetie tarzan wild thing you burning hunk of love

3 poems

by wiggly jones "the little hippie boy"

all god is love trump is bad jesus died for your sins a woman has a right to her own body you can’t fight city hall jet fuel can’t melt steel beams this country was built on the backs of slaves you’ve never met a payroll in your life turn it into a parking lot how come there are still monkeys if men had babies abortion would be a sacrament property is theft the people have taken to the streets because the streets belong to the people al gore has a private jet and a private beach what difference does it make how people love

one the wheel turns the candle burns the moon is the sun all is one the rain falls the telemarketer calls the burger is the bun all is one the clouds drift the fork lifts boredom is fun all is one life is war with no reason for people like guns all is one click click throw a stick see spot run all is one the loser wins the dryer spins the colors run all is one

17 things to do in my next life 1. start a new religion, based on peace and love 2. eat healthier food 3. look people in the eye more 4. write at least two poems every day 5. write a novel every year 6. write at least one 2,000 page novel 7. try to be nicer to dogs - maybe if i like them more, they will like me more 8. learn about astronomy 9. try to learn to draw 10. don’t laugh at other peple’s opinions 11. realize that the only truth is that there is no truth 12. don’t sleep so much 13. make lists of things to do every day, and do them 14. go for long walks in all sorts of weather 15. smile more 16. don’t watch television 17. stay off the internet (and/or whatever might replace it)

fate

by horace p sternwall

illustrations by roy dismas and konrad kraus

the fire was burning low. thurston and beresford were the only members of the club still in the room. “you know,” said thurston, “i was reading something in the gazette this morning.” he paused. “i can’t now remember what it was, but somehow it put me in mind of something. something that happened a long time ago. to a fellow named stafford- wiggins. i don’t suppose you would have known him?” beresford made a sort of grunt which thurston took as indicating that beresford had indeed not known stafford-wiggins. “no, i didn’t suppose you would,” thurston continued. “he was a young chap starting out in the service in the corps - the diplomatic corps - at the same time as myself. which, of course, was not exactly yesterday. anyway, all of us - all of us young fellows starting out - thought stafford-wiggins was quite a comer. so, one bright spring afternoon old sir edward chandry - who was in charge of sort of shepherding us through our apprenticeship - invited all of us - all of us young chaps - to the races. at ascot, if i remember correctly. one of the things that impressed us about stafford-wiggins was the amazing talent he had for arriving at any event or appointment at exactly the right time - never so much as a minute early or late. so, all the rest of us had gathered in front of the track with sir edward and lady chandry, and we were waiting for stafford-wiggins. the more forthright among us had been laughingly assuring sir edward and his consort that he would most assuredly arrive just in time. and sure enough, he did just that. a few of the fellows began chaffing him good-naturedly as he stepped down from his coach, straightening his jacket and getting ready to pay his respects to sir edward and lady chandry, whom i happened to be standing just behind. “that young man,” lady chandry observed in a low voice to sir edward, indicating stafford-wiggins, “does not know how to wear a top hat.” this was bad enough, but worse was to come. “nor,” lady chandry added , “will he ever.” “i am afraid you are right, my dear,” sir edward agreed as he put on a smile and stepped forward to greet stafford-wiggins. sentence had been passed, as quickly as a leaf might fall, and of course there was no appeal or any notion of one from the condemned. i remember that i made a few successful wagers that afternoon, which needless to say made more of an impression on me than any thoughts - deep or otherwise - i might have had about poor staford-wiggins. in due course, stafford-wiggins was posted to the balkans or spanish guyana or some such. for all practical purposes, he was never heard of or from again. “ thurston paused again, “funny, isn’t it, how a single - what would you call it? not even a misstep, really, can determine a fellow’s fate.” but beresford did not reply, as he had fallen asleep.

lonely

by alice marston sternwall everybody hates the lonely don’t let them tell you otherwise you are having a nice conversation then you see the desperation in their eyes all the years of solitude come rising up like foam in the flickering beams of your sympathy they finally see their way home their dreams and sad opinions flow through the night and into dawn their clutching hands reach out to you but you are already gone perhaps when you lie dying in a little room alone you will give a thought to those desperate ones and regret your heart of stone

a ballad

by horace p sternwall

the world is bad but should be good robin hood slept in king john’s wood king john was bad, but robin was good let us sing a song of robin hood o merrily merrily merrily we go all of good cheer we be fair robin doth dwell in the deep deep woods dwelleth there doth he the king put a bounty on robin’s head and swore to hang him from a tree o merrily merrily merrily we go all of good cheer be we maid marian rode by the castle gate she caught the bad king’s eye all merrily she rode away between the forest and the sky all merrily we ride away with robin and his merry men and we’ll stay in the wood be it understood until the good times come again friar tuck stood up with a flagon of ale he drank it down right strong o merrily merrily merrily we go singing this merry song

2 poems

by chuck leary

poem how nasty life is! and how even worse people are! how i wish i were an anchovy in a can on the shelf of an abandoned supermarket or even better on a pizza half-eaten and tossed aside in its cardboard box on a sidewalk in the rain a million cab drivers weep dreaming of neanderthal maidens peanut butter and jelly sandwiches peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches

sorrow i am sorry i find life ridiculous and can not share in your joys and sorrows perhaps after a good night’s sleep i will feel better tomorrow