Tag Archives: personal

Didactic Doggerel

This Makes No Frankin Sense The boswellia papyrifera, A tree that grows in Ethiopia, Produces frankincense, a curious resin That has a bitter smell but isn’t poison. In Africa and in the Middle East It has embellished many a fine … Continue reading →

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Five Quotes About What

Fried okra is not a vegetable. It’s cornmeal in drag. (jmn) He’s determined to shoot himself in my foot. (jmn) The student decided I wasn’t serving his needs and resolved to take it out on himself. (jmn) It’s hard not … Continue reading →

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Written in the 70s — On the Song

*On the Song of Songs* Bernard of Clairvaux B You are my subject, scraped from the womb. Will we cross in Limbo, sad progenitor and aspiring heir? Who will survive? I have been scoured from your mother’s eyes as resolutely … Continue reading →

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Written in the 70s — Can peace

Can peace and beauty (opulent) be immoral? Grosse Pointe Shores. Lake Ste. Claire. (Copyright 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.) Written in the 70s, 70s-11a. (Copyright 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.)

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Written in the 70s — I admit

I admit that’s bad, but not *that* bad. I may breach decorum occasionally (like now), but I try mightily not to breach good taste. I’m sure you can handle the above; being a diffident sort, I wasn’t sure *I* could … Continue reading →

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“Woman With Automatic”

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Woman With Automatic.

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Social Math — UK

Gerry Rattigan is the publican who operates the Thane of Thoth, the watering hole popular among the better sort of denizens of Chichesterton-Upon-Hogg — though, to be sure, it’s also the only such establishment in the village. Gerry customarily nicks … Continue reading →

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Didactic Doggerel

The Smallest Black Hole You wonder what you’d find in a black hole? Your other sock? A dime? A baby mole? I’ll tell you where you will find none of those: In Cygnus X-1 only darkness shows. A star one … Continue reading →

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Idle Doggerel

Drawn and Quartered “Everything was everywhere.” (Joplin, MO tornado survivor) It was as if Mother Nature Had thrown the town under a train. It skidded hard for good measure, Smearing acreage with guts and brain. Uncle Alvin would do a … Continue reading →

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Written in the 70s — He worked

He worked on her [***], balled into a striving that sweated their two bodies [***], past caring where she was, if she had [***] [***]. She was beginning to signal [***] in her eyes, her [***] was tensing. But all … Continue reading →

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