Here goes: Milkcow’s Calf Blues–Robert JohnsonThe Take Out–Widespread PanicRip This Joint–The Rolling StonesRespectable–The Rolling StonesWatching the Detectives–Elvis CostelloSo Wrong–Patsy ClineBlack and Blue–Lyle LovettLeavin’ on your Mind–Patsy ClineAll Around the World–Paul SimonRoute 67–Let’s Active random10 Please consider donating to my efforts in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk for the Cure

Too much work, and no vacation,Deserves at least a small libation.So hail! my friends, and raise your glasses;Work’s the curse of the drinking classes. –Oscar Wilde In honor of drinking with the work buddies tonight! poetrymonth, poetry, poetrymonth Please consider donating to my efforts in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk for the Cure

I should be preparing for a discussion I’m leading on Social Software.I should be finishing revisions to a chapter of my book.I should be working on my Science and Blogging talk.I should be folding clothes and putting them away.I should have gone to the store.I should have checked on the bills.I should have done the…

I sat all morning in the college sick bayCounting bells knelling classes to a close.At two o’clock our neighbors drove me home. In the porch I met my father crying–He had always taken funerals in his stride–And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow. The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pramWhen…

This is for Pilgrim/Heretic, who is beginning to lose things. One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the flusterof lost door keys, the hour badly spent.The art of losing isn’t hard to…

I plan to exercise every day. I made that a New Year’s resolution. But it’s been rough going. First, the cold got to me. Then I fell down the stairs. Then it was just hard getting back to the routine. I’m still not in the habit of exercising every day, but I think about it…

With a bit of explanation. My Ph.D. exams were on sonnet sequences. I have to admit that this was the most fun part of taking my exams, finding all kinds of new sonnet sequences. Someday, I’d like to hunt down some more. This poem I heard at a reading in Minneapolis at a writer’s conference…

I am awake. I hate it when this happens. It’s rare, thankfully, but still. I was lying in bed thinking about the 3 good book ideas I’m sitting on and how I’m going to find the strength and motivation to bring them to fruition. One is about 25% there and completely outlined. The other two…

[Come darkest Night, becomming sorrow best] Come darkest Night, becomming sorrow best, Light leave thy light, fit for a lightsome soule: Darknesse doth truly sute with me opprest, Whom absence power doth from mirth controule. The very trees with hanging heads condole Sweet Summers parting, and of leaves distrest, In dying colours make a grief-full…

I wasn’t going to do this again, but I’ve got some good search strings, possibly rivaling even Bitch, Ph.D. : photos of women’s butt hairsquizilla static shock“soccer mom” definition “what is”bad mom sexmom birthday greetings–I’m number 1 for this; maybe I should start selling themgeeky pictures of peoplemonday thoughtsechnide–hope they found herfume dieselgenetics and sexismchoices…