I get a feeling I’ll do something big today.
I can taste it in the tea
when the idea begins to take shape–
a three-masted frigate out of the fog,
Better than the anticipation
of your long fingers and heat.
I can see the figurehead,
Full-breasted and fresh-painted,
and there, just ahead,
a giant tentacle rises
to fondle her oaken curves.
While applying for a marriage certificate in Lexington, Susan and I were asked to identify our race. We agreed we’re tired of that question on every government form everywhere, so we entered the word “Human.” The clerk was not having it and insisted that we properly categorize ourselves by skin color. We complied, yet it felt right to push back, just a bit, and peacefully, against an anachronistic regulation. If and when the government asks me to declare my religion, I’ll enter the word “Liberty.”