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This post is background to a poem that has not even been posted yet. Heck it’s not even fully done, but no matter. It is inspired (if that is the right word for something very sad) by an article in the Washington Post about Old people going walk-about from their OA homes, getting lost and…
So we are now 50 posts old. Writing this as i listen to Pharoah Sanders go wonderfully and gently mad, his jazz deviance connecting perfectly with my fragile cool state of mind. Want to use this opportunity to take you by the hand gentle reader and re-show you a poem or four that (I believe)…
Scattered, Untidy.. click on the title to read the poem
From the Outside, Listening In. 