Prose Poem: A few years ago, New Yorker Jen McKenzie stood in line for two hours to eat at Emmy Squared, a Detroit-style pizza place (from the WSJ)

 

Standing in line is where it's at.

I mean, once I lock my knees

and stare straight ahead,

eyes unfocused, 

the world becomes Zen.

I become Zen.

My breathing encompasses

eternity.

And the long wait is 

a sacrament.

I first discovered all this while

waiting in line for a Detroit-style

pizza.

At first I was distressed

at the long line,

but then I thought to myself:

"There are no problems,

there is only the Line."

Detachment followed immediately.

The Line and I became one,

and time disappeared 

into a warm fuzzy blanket.

And when I got my order

I gave it to a homeless person.

I was no longer in need

of physical sustenance.

Now I seek out lines to stand in to wait.

For vaccines.

For toilet paper.

For artisan bread.

For polo mallets.

For Godot.

And sometimes I stand in line

all by myself

on my patio --

And sometimes I stand 

on street corners

with a sign reading:

"The Line Starts Here."

And people get it.

They really get it.

They line up behind me

for hours and days.

Sometimes weeks.

When the world is ready

I shall start the never-ending 

Line,

which has no stop

in either time or space.

And Detroit-style pizza

shall descend on us all

from the heavens

without money and without

cost.

Selah.

Sing praise to the name of the Lord.

 

Sing to the Lord in most glorious praise;

each mortal voice in sweet melody raise!

Our King and our Savior; his enduring zeal

makes our salvation and comfort all real!

 

Photo Essay: New Postcards to the President.

 

Today's timericks

 

My fridge is full of leftovers/I don't know what to do/Some are green and some are red/and some are sickly blue/I forget to label them/or scribble on a date/and I'm afraid if I partake/I'll meet an awful fate/I wish I had a pig or goat/to feed these odd and ends/but since I don't I'll give 'em to/my many hungry friends.

The evil that men do lives on/unless a Don Quixote/is put into position/and can lawmaker's proud vote sway/Here's hoping Biden finds a way/to undo Trump's misconduct/without a Congress bent awry/that only wants to obstruct. 

Known as robotic process automation, or bots, the software is typically designed to handle a range of routine office tasks, such as processing payroll data or expense reports, and fielding call-center queries. More advanced bots can review more complex paperwork, including legal documents and contracts.  (WSJ)

When I go to a big box store/there ain't no people anymore/It's automated and there's lots/of things that they are calling 'bots'/to take my order, answer questions/and ignore my fine suggestions/Algorithms have succeeded/in making me feel so unneeded.  

The work of vastation across our fair nation/continues amain, so I see/In Frisco the school board acts just like a fool board/and uses their judgement beastly/We might as well number all statues, schools, lumber/and anything else with a name/so Dame Controversy will show us some mercy/so we can be dumb and carefree.

Keep your iPhone from your pacemaker/the medicoes all say/otherwise you'll get a shock/that takes your breath away/Those crazy wavelengths clashing/as you take a call or two/will make your implant stutter/and your face turn brightly blue/You seniors with heart problems/there no need to flip your lid/just throw away your iPhone/and go off the frickin' grid. 

And it shall come to pass in that day that the Lord shall give thee rest, from thy sorrow, and from thy fear . . .

 

Give me rest, O Lord -- the kind

that only thou canst loose or bind.

Not the luxury and ease

that worldly folk are wild to seize;

but the peace thy Gospel breeds

while doing good and kindly deeds.

Today's timericks.

 

In the small Dutch town of Urk/taking advantage of murk/rioters struck/and ran amok/defying both country and kirk. 

In Italy the leadership/lasts no longer than a thrip/Administrations come and go/quicker than a burlesque show/When in Rome lookout for clerks/going out like fireworks.

When shopping at a brick & mortar/I don't buy more than I orter/Cuz it's hard to lug around/Hernias come pound for pound/But when online I do shop/I do not know how to stop/Now I have a gunny sack/filled with bottles of arak!

My winter furbelow

 

The thickening Minnesota snow

felt like icing on white cakes

when I lay down as a child in it.

Now that I've supposedly matured

I still find myself quite lured

to make angels in the flakes

for a winter furbelow.

We rejoice in Christ

 

When we have a healthy view,

it's happiness we will pursue.

Make, therefore, a conscious choice

that in the Christ you will rejoice.

Only he has love and weight

enough to promise our glad fate.

Today's timericks.

 

How many strains of Covid are there/that's what I wanna know/Seems we need a new vaccine/now each month in a row/There's one in London, Cape Town too/Perhaps the next's from Kalamazoo/Moscow, Beijing -- musical chairs!/It catches us all unawares. 

No Budweiser this Super Bowl?/When they've played a splendid role/in America's big day/keeping sobriety at bay?/You might as well play baseball, kid/without the players chewing quid.

Melting faster than predicted/ice sheets may have us evicted/from our seaside frolics soon/Surf is up in Saskatoon!/Walruses get awful gawky/when they surface near Milwaukee/Say goodbye to trailer park/and build yourself a Noah's Ark!

Thy ways are just.

 

I'm through with second guessing

the intentions of the Lord.

My notions of his dealings

are the rattling of a gourd.

God's providence may not be clear,

so I must learn to trust

in his loving kindness

and to say "Thy ways are just!"