Rhyme for the Times

At least one good thing about operating with ordinary intelligence is that your worst fears and premonitions don’t mean shit – they’re laughable.



 “Rhyme For The Times”:

One guy’s brain
was so disjointed,
he thought his thoughts
were divinely anointed.



In partial repetition of what he’d heard from his elders, this one kid said, “Good things DO come in small packages – except for my shorts and my brain.”



In a land of connections, there are no rules or laws, only temporary junctures and intersections.



The home grown Intellectual repertoire does not include “willful ambiguity” – Oh, I know they use such a term, but they mean something else.