Little Billboards #84

Citrus Smokestacks(found poem–pg. 21 of Eric Schlosser’sFast Food Nation) The town out on the edge nicknamed “Citrus Smokestacks”had just sixty inhabitants. It was the last stop.Tourists and migrants jammed cheap motels.A local motorcycle club, “Airborne Angels,”celebrated families and small children and Marlon Brando. They supplied a new yin and yang. The Hunterwrote of shoplifting culture. … Continue reading Little Billboards #84

The Week That Was, or I Wish the Shoe Fit

This week included speeding tickets, stomach viruses, the stinkiest, and ultimately most inedible, Brussels sprouts ever, and a white-knuckled trip to work in rain, standing water, and without streetlights, among other slight disasters. My just-turned-four-year-old got a special present of pull-ups for her birthday because of the stomach virus. Taking care of sick children did … Continue reading The Week That Was, or I Wish the Shoe Fit

The Week That Was, or You got some Duncan Idaho on my Gurney Halleck.

The week began with some semi-restful snow days. I don’t believe anyone in our home was permanently damaged, though a few tears were shed and more than a few markers bled. The almost-four-year-old sang while we were discussing dinner plans. Her song began, “Tiki masala / I need a dolla.” Not bad. I wrote about … Continue reading The Week That Was, or You got some Duncan Idaho on my Gurney Halleck.