From Arthur Winfield Knight
I took a dance class from her the summer I was in New York. Eartha taught me how to move. Her skin was the color of cafe au lait, heavy to cream. She might have passed as an exotic looking Caucasian, but she was comfortable being a Negro.
When we'd both ended up in L.A., I'd take her riding on my cycle at two or three in the morning, because we were both night people and I could think better when the streets were deserted. Sometimes, if it was early enough, we'd stop in front of the Egyptian Theater on Hollywood Boulevard, stating at my name in lights once East of Eden had opened. Sometimes, a couple of hours before dawn, we'd drink coffee at Googie's on the Strip because it was never shut and we liked to watch the other night people. We held hands a lot, because I loved to touch her. I could only guess how beautiful she'd be, naked. Sitting in a back booth, I said, "I wonder what it would be like if we were lovers."
"We wouldn't be able to be friends once it ended, and it would have to end." Eartha could be very fatalistic. "Sex would ruin everything."
"It would be fun for a while, though," I said, but I knew she was right.
He said he knew all the important people in Hollywood, and he was proud he was a member of Sinatra's ratpack. I gave him a ride on my Harley one Sunday afternoon, taking the corners fast, up into the Hollywood Hills, past the mansion where Bugsy Siegel had lived. I could tell Sammy was scared by the way he clung to me, but he kept saying, "Wow, man, what a fucking gas. I've got to get one of these," because he needed to be the coolest man in the world, even if he was black. Especially, since he was black.
I knew it was difficult to be a negro in Hollywood, but Sammy worked too hard at being hip. He said, "I've got a phone book of the hottest chicks in town, man. We got to get loaded and have an orgy."
Sammy opened a bottle of expensive wine Dean Martin had given him and lit a joint. His black face glistened from the heat, and I could smell the sweat on him. Sammy said, "I'm fucking this blonde sex goddess from Switzerland who can barely speak English, but we communicate in other ways. Dig? The three of us have to get together and make it. I believe in sharing with my buddies, and you've me buddy, man." I flinched when he put his hand on my shoulder.
Sammy was beating his bongo-drums when I left. Maybe he really believed he was the "hippest cat in L.A.," but he was just a nervous, little guy, and I felt sorry for him. He desperately wanted to be white, and it was impossible.
She was singing in a small club along the Strip the night we met. Kendra wore a floor-length skirt, standing behind the microphone, caressing it. I didn't realize she had only one leg. Later, she told me she'd lost it in a motorcycle accident.
I understood why she kept saying, "Jimmy, not so fast" when I'd take her for a ride on my bike, but she never said no. Kendra thought most lives weren't dangerous enough, Sometimes she'd leave her artificial leg at home. Depending on the kindness of strangers. She'd lean against me, or I'd carry her, particularly if we'd been drinking.
I asked Kendra to take her clothes off the first night we went to her apartment. She had long blonde hair and small, delicate breasts. She body shone in the soft dark. She balanced herself against the bed, then I touched the place where her leg used to be, kissing her. There. She was sobbing when we lay next to each other on her bed. I said, "We don't have to do anything. It's all right," but it was never going to be all right.
Ursula spent her afternoons at Brando's house, studying English with Marlon's fiancèe. Josianne, although her and Ursula had been lovers, too. They'd lain nude in a field next to a ruined castle in Italy, yellow flowers poking up between their legs. Marlon got Paramount to bring her to America. It was difficult to imagine the three of them spending their days together. Josianne was French and Ursula was Swiss, and the only thing that bound them together was their lack of English language skills and the fact that they'd both slept with Marlon. The women talked into a tape recorder, trying to improve their accents, while Marlon watched, brooding. He never let them out of his sight, Ursula said. It was as if he feared they might steal something if he left the room, even for a moment, but he was always an uncertain man when he wasn't in front of the camera. I always thought his imaginary life was more real than the one he lived each day. When I'd arrive at his house, Marlon would stand on the deck overlooking the ocean, his back to me. He'd ask Ursula, "Who do you go out with him? What are you doing with this boy?" She'd answered him dozens of times, sounding out each word, but he was never satisfied--or he had the worst memory of any man I ever met. He certainly had the worst manners. I never understood why everyone thought he was such a fine actor.
She'd dated Howard Hughes when she'd arrived in America, but he'd never cast her in a picture. Probably he'd cast her elsewhere, but Ursula and I didn't talk about that. She'd starred in two minor Italian movies before coming ot Hollywood, but no one took her seriously as an actress. She was 19 and liked to wear tight sweaters or low cut blouses with no bra, so it didn't matter if she had any talent. Her breasts were spectacular. She had what most producers were looking for, but her Italian was terrible and her English was worse. Ahe'd grown up speaking German in Switzerland. She was having an affair with a second-rate actor named John Derek, whose wife was going to have Ursula deported is she continued to see him, but Ursula was cavalier about it. She and I stayed up later than anyone else in Hollywood, so we were bound together by default, neither friends nor lovers. We were emotional storm troopers. We spent so much time fighting in public one reporter wrote, "James Dean is learning German so that he can fight with Ursula Andress in two languages." It was funny. We stopped seeing each other before I took my first German lesson, and Ursula's English was still awful.
She was more than a sex symbol. She'd been nominated for an Oscar for her supporting role in Come Back, Little Sheba when she was 21, the same yea she'd had a stillborn girl by Howard Hughes, and she'd been a celebrity usherette when East of Eden opened in New York. Jack Warner said it would be good for business if I took her to a premiere. It was the only time I ever wore a tux.
Terry must have had half a dozen petticoats under her white dress, but she managed to squeeze into the back to the limo with me. She was breathing hard, but said, "Oh, hello," as if she were startled by my presence. She didn't say anything else until we pulled up in front of the theater, then she smiled and put her arm through mine and began to whisper, blalalalala, leaning on my shoulder. We looked like the hottest couple in Hollywood. The photographers went crazy.
Terry didn't say another word until Sabrina had ended and we were leaving the theater. She grabbed my arm again, her breasts heaving, star in her eyes, flashbulbs popping all over the place, blalalalala, then we were back in limo, and she was quiet again. I smoked half a pack of cigarettes but the time the limo pulled up in front of her house. I felt like a fool.
Christine Howard
New Orleans man lost his way--
On the Pinasco Blanco Trail.
Hasty search teams formed--tracks found where he left the trail
Area scoured--Dogs have the scent.
Body found under hospital stairwell,
Corpse camouflaged, subject stalked, conditioned of dress undetermined.
One-eyed Fred lost a lock of hair and his life
Beat to death with a baseball bat by a four-star man.
In an illegal campsite west of town--
Bear scratches woman, bear sentenced to death by the local constabulary
(Why didn't he at least take a taste)
In Bismarck, North Dakota where winter are long and frigid.
1800 hearty, hardy souls set a new record for simultaneous snow angels.
Waving arms and legs they welcomed the five point four inches of snow
On the first day of spring.
Stars composed entirely of quarks or some unknown exotic
Studied by the Hubble telescope
(Haven't we always known that stars were exotic)?
Homeless man get a "Happy Meal" wins a million dollars
In McDonalds' random giveaway.
(This was real not Monopoly money).
Fruitless search in Horseshoe canyon for a man
He stabbed his wife on the front porch with a steak knife.
Man found not a fruit but maybe a nut
Drove off the mesa in his SUV. (Ejected from vehicle and existence)
Hole dweller alive--not dead as was reported
Left his old hole because of flooding.
Solitude gives him time to think
Tells a tale involving mattress-- rooming house-- a woman
Man's ashes launched with a boom.
Thrust into the sky on the fourth of July--
He must be seeing stars still with such a sendoff.
After working for the Army
for years on repairing jet engines
I ended up being stationed
in Pennsylvania one summer
repairing air conditioners
and refrigerators.
I'd only do a little work
and then have nothing to do
for a day or two.
But the thing I remember
is that at the time Cubans
were defecting to the United States
by boat.
They'd sail to Florida,
most of then dehydrated
and all of them malnourished.
The U.S. government
didn't want them spreading diseases
in our country,
so when the Cubans would appear
off the coast of Miami,
the military would be waiting
to make sure they were healthy.
Well, all I knew
was that they got all these Cubans
into trucks we called 'cattle cars'
with only a few benches
and trucked them up to Pennsylvania,
where I was,
and the military gave them some shots
to make sure they weren't dying.
So these people, after
escaping their country
in a shoddy wooden boat
were taken by the U.S. military,
herded into a boxed-in truck
and shipped up the country
so they could be given shots
and detained.
These Cubans,
who came here wanting freedom,
now had to wait
in a fenced-in area
until they were tested
and given food.
And it was my job
to make sure that
their fridge and
air conditioner was working.
So I sat there for
a day or two at a time,
drinking cans of beer,
and looking out my window.
I had a view of the razor wire fence
and all I remember
was seeing all of these Cubans
leaning on the chain-link fence,
wondering if this was what it was like
to be free,
holding on to the metal,
looking out to what they were sure
was freedom.
Daniel Poulin
Jack Hickel couldn't get the engines of the Monitor Seventh Series to kick in. His ship had been without power, drifting in space, for fourteen days. Jake was a patient man, but he wasn't immortal. This was deep space. It wasn't very safe for him to be stranded for a long time out here. Supplies of food, fuel, and oxygen could be made to last for a month, but fuel wasn't much worth anything without working engines.
Hoping a friendly ship would be first to hear his automatic emergency signal, Jake went to work on the engine.
There was no way to get back to his original plans now. Jake Hickel was going to be a university professor from the time he was three years old. Teach medicine and get rich. That's all that had been on his mind for fifteen years. By then, he was a young, handsome, studious boy who was interested in sports, girls, and science. His mother and father were both teachers at the university and authors of several books on eccrinology. They had given Jake free space to follow their footsteps into medicine, and he had every intention of doing so.
But then he had to be drafted into military service, and room for medical trainees had not been available. Jake was instructed in mechanical and aeronautical engineering and sent from star bas as ship mechanic on a military exploratory vessel of the Yi class. He was a good worker when he kept to himself. He met several women, but he didn't marry.
When his release from service was final, he signed on with Aerospace Parts Suppliers and had worked for them for ten years when they gave in to his demand to be sole pilot on one of their ships. He had, at age thirty-five, grayed at the temples. His face showed wrinkles and a couple of scars, and his hands were callused. He wore rather loose fitting clothes of matural colors.
He worked for the owner of the vessel, A.P.S., for twenty years now, and he liked to think that he hated every second of it. The people back home found him snide and arrogant. He didn't appreciate them interfering with his duties. Just because he ran a little advertisement for a repair shop, didn't dive them the right to transfer parts and equipment and put in older parts.
When available supply rates were marked insufficient, the ship he administered was called into dock, and some non-manditory parts were taken and replacements were made for existing part supplies where necessary. As the ship navigated space, parts used on other ships were virtually broken in and tested on in real space activity.
And furthermore, if any larger ship in deep space had docking abilities, the Monitor Seventh Series could deliver parts when necessary. At the last base, the Monitor had serviced a Thanatos ship. It had needed parts that Jake could not supply except by stripping the parts from the Monitor itself.
After, the Monitor had staggered roughly through seventy five thousand miles of near space when the auxiliary engines had stopped down completely. Before that, the main engine had given out in murky space.
"Next time," Jake said to himself, "we will have to strip fewer parts for those damn institute crafts."
Jake picked up the inventory sheet that had been in a drawer behind the entry bulkhead. There were none of the section needed to fix the main engine. He had already gone outboard to check the burnt out engine and auxiliaries.
Some of the parts for the auxiliaries' repairs were on the stock lists carried aboard, but not enough to make an engine run for over two seconds. Such a run was just too close to fatal. Half the rear end of the ship could be blown away, and that would definitely cause fissures in the cabin compartment. Complete loss of air would result, and the sersa-pak he would wear to avoid loss of air supply could only last fifteen hours.
Well, he would just have to stop and wait for ----
One oh two seven to sink-pact registry Monitor seven two zero eight. Do you read?" blasted through the overhead speakers, breaking Jake's right ear drum. Suffering from the pain, he grabbed the mike from the wall with his left hand, hit the mike against the response switch on the control panel below and said, "This is monitor two seven zero eight. What is your classification?"
There was a hiss and a pop as Jake hurriedly turned audio to a third of full volume he had pressed in hope of receiving response from maximum distance. The speaker cleared and communication said, "This is Lantis class one oh two seven. We are within four hours of your position. What assistance can we offer you?"
The onboard emergency signal of the monitor had already given the ship's position in space to the com-relay of the rescuing ship Lantis.
Jake, in severe pain, found the manual for Lantis ships in the cupboard. He placed his left hand over his right ear and threw the book down on the floor with disgust. Twenty years with repair shops had taught him to never trust a Lantis ship captain, but now he might make an exception.
It wasn't that Lantis ships weren't friendly, it was just that they were operated by a colonial company.
Originally, it had been planned that each different class of ship would be owned and operated by each venturing nation, and such national ships did exist. But most governments had opted to be launching services for private enterprises. Connections between foreign nations and competing companies had risen and led cause to at least seventeen minor space wars. Lantis ships were often involved in war and ruthless policies.
Jake picked up the Lantis manual and read twenty pages before he found certainly that he could use the Lantis' auxiliary engine parts to repair his own auxiliary engine.
Lantis one two zero seven had called to the Monitor several times while Jake read the manual. He kneeled down over the book on the bulkhead floor, a little blood dripping from his ear.
He pulled his mike down to his mouth and said, "Monitor seven two zero eight to Lantis one zero two seven. I am in need of engine repairs. Complete shutdown of main engines and both auxiliaries yesterday at eighteen thirty hours. Presently, life support capabilities of twelve days. Your auxiliary engine parts are compatible with my engine. Can you please assist?"
Jake waited for the speaker to respond. He wasn't expecting a simple answer, but that's what he got.
"Rendezvous with your position in four hours."
Jake, leaving the manual on the floor, got up, replaced the mike in its former position and flipped his response switch to off. He turned his automatic emergency broadcast signal switch to stand-by. Before sitting down to wait for the Lantis approach and docking, he opened a drawer labeled 'MEDICAL' and took out a small container containing cotton. No use worrying about a broken ear drum now. He could have the problem taken care of at his next base stop-over, although it would mean an extra day. Jake pushed a small ball of cotton into his right ear.
"Nope. We aren't going in for a rescue," Gordon Wiley said to his staff in the Lantis ship. Lantis ships were used as major transport vessels, although the major design company had built them for tourist travel when initial orders for the ships had been placed. Lantises now were outfitted with a crew of four and a cargo capacity of a large oil tanker.
Gordon continued, "We cannot take the chance that it might be a setup. You know that one Monitor has gone pirate. She blew away a Bell-star liner just to confiscate parts for future sales. Besides, Crylis base is in urgent need of the supplies we carry.
Ensign Hull interrupted, "Sir, may I ask just one question?"
"Go ahead."
"Why, sit, did you respond to the emergency broadcast at all?"
"That should be obvious, ensign. One of our sister ships might have been in trouble."
Hull interrupted again, "It is a chance, sir, but we have to help out this Monitor. I know Hickel, and he's a loner, not a pirate. Let's drop off the parts and then be back on our way to Crylis."
After a moment, Gordon answered, "You're right ensign. Plot a course for the Monitor's position."
Crylis base was a forty man operation doing mineral exploration on one planet of a seven planet system. The exploratory team had nearly exhausted present equipment supplies and was in need of replacements. Capella base, actually a large space port city, had been contacted, and Lantis one oh two seven had been loaded with industrial supplies, parts and machinery and sent out to arrive at Crylis in twenty-eight days. The Lantis ship was also on route from Capella to Chylis.
Since colonization, Capella had been involved in three political disputes and two wars of economy. The disputes and wars had not been real by Earth standards. They were just arguments with a few men using a few billion dollars worth of equipment. It seemed, in this day and age, one could never tell when approaching any base, just whose hands power would be in. Sometimes, a private industry would take cover an existing base by using force. Other times, a government would co-opt a private ecomony base to use it for its own power infrastructure. Common trade -- economic functioning -- was madness.
Jake waited five hours before trying to recontact the Lantis ship. After several tries, he turned the emergency back from stand-by to on. He knew he never should have trusted a Lantis ship! His anger furthered the pain in his ear. He moved the volume on the broadcast receiver to half level and tried to rest.
He dreamed and it frightened him:
The rocket ship had just landed, and the crew aboard scanned the horizon of the forbidden landscape. Instruments indicated no life forms, although the air would support human life. The crew prepared to disembark.
Each member for the crew carried foodstuffs, water and a weapon. As they stepped from the ship, each was met with the sensation of being here before. Fresh air and solid ground and open space could account for that. But there was something else. If they had stepped out onto volcanic terrain on Earth, they might have felt the same. Perhaps it was the color (blue) of the sky.
The crew of five drew together and walked toward and out-cropping in the distance. Its form was that of the adobes of the southwest. When about two miles from the ships, each man fell in turn to the ground. He did not get up and he made no sound.
Trees began growing where the men had fallen. Oaks, maples, aspen, pines, and firs had soon grown to heights of seventy feet and cover forty square miles.
Animals began appearing from underbrush and burrows. Hares, foxes, deer and rodents ran madly about. The animals began feeding on the plant growth and on one another.
A spring began flowing in the woods and a narrow stream formed. Clouds in the sky dumped rain and the stream grew.
Now, on the horizon, near the rock outcropping, men appeared. Fifteen men came forth and brought to the woods weapons and equipment. Some men hunted animals and killed every ones. They took their meat and skins into the rocks.
Other man pumped from the stream great amounts of water. They transferred great barrels of water into the rocks, until the string was dry.
Still other men cut down trees with massive saws. They cut until not one tree in the forty square miles of forest wood was left standing. They took the wood into the rocks.
The wastes of the animals and plants that remains were lit afire and burned until nothing but ashes remained on the ground or in the air.
The rocket ship that had landed stood as the only indication that other man had been there. It would have stood to rust there, except that it exploded and scattered metal fragments about the terrain.
After sleeping nearly twenty hours, Jake woke suddenly to sounds coming from the docking bay. Clunks and load snaps issued throughout the bulkhead. He felt a faint rush through his entire body. He went quickly to his wardroom locker and dressed in a compressured suit in case of decompression after docking. After a pause, he thought and decided to turn his emergency broadcast signal switch to its off position.
Two men crawled through the docking bay and walked to the cabin in the front section of the ship. Jake checked compression gauges and walked back to the docking chamber and closed the docking hatch. After taking off his suit, he too walked to the front of the ship. The two men who had just entered likewise took off their suits.
The shorter of the two men spoke, "Hello, captain. How can we help?"
Jake asked, "Are you part of the Lantis crew?"
"No."
"What ship have you docked with my Monitor?"
The taller man answered, "A Sri class ship number eight four two."
Jake explained, "My main engine is burnt out and my auxiliary engines have quit. I'm needing a couple of replacement parts that I'm not carrying on this load."
As the other men watched, Jake opened a drawer, took out and threw on the floor several manuals on top of the Lantis ship manual that was already there. Kneeling, he pulled out a manual for Sri class ships and read for ten minutes. The other men stared silently.
Jake turned to the men and said, "If I can tear apart one of your auxiliary engines, I can repair one of mine."
The shorter man stepped forward, put out his hand, and said, "My name's Joe Curtis. Pleased to be of service."
Jake took his hand and said, "Jake Hickel. This is my Monitor."
The taller man spoke, "Cal Trubull. We will cooperate in any way we possibly can. You can go to work on your auxiliary as soon as you get suited up."
"Thanks," was all Jake had to say.
He worked for four hours outboard before he had disassembled the Sri engine to the point at which he could take the parts he needed. Another four hours passed before he actually took the parts and used them to repair his own engine.
When he came back inside the Monitor, the other men had gone, but, of course, the Sri ship was still docked to his vessel.
Jake unsuited, went to the front of his ship, pushed his response switch on, and said, "Where do you fells get off to disappearing on me?"
He waited for a moment, and Cal Trubull's voice said through the speaker panel on the wall, "We just thought you would feel better working alone. Are you in any further need of our assistance?"
"I think I've got everything I need. See you fellas back on Capella."
As Sri eight four two undocked, Jake sat down, feeling exhausted. He slept for fourteen hours.
The bleeding in his ear had stopped long ago, but it still hurt like mad. He stepped to the front control panel to test the engine. When he flipped the correct switches, all indicators showed the engine responding with full power. Everything looked fine for him to make it Capella base, make additional repairs, and make good on the parts he had borrowed form the Sri ship.
Four days later, Jake landed and docked at Capella, figuring on repairing the other engines procuring replacement parts for the Sri engine he had cannibalized form the Sri ship. He would return the parts to Cap and Joe when he caught up with them.
While repairing his engines, Jake got some uncanny news. It seemed that a Lantis ship, registered one oh two seven, had, of course, been on route to deliver industrial supplies to Crylis, when a major explosion aboard had destroyed the supplies and a good part of the ship. When the explosion was reported, Capella base sent out a rescue ship to look for survivors. By the time the Sri class ship arrived there, no survivors remained.
Jake was relieved he had not been docked to her when she exploded, but also deeply regretted having thought the Lantis crew had deserted him after promising rescue. They hadn't deserted him. They had died!
Dounia Sadeghi
It was not beautiful
The way I became a woman.
Willing the pain
To take my unprized innocence.
And thinking of the imbalance
Of my checkbook.
The smell of cigarettes and
Intimacy lacking
Took me
Propelled me
Towards realized, actualized
Womanhood.
Afterwards:
Unable to remember my girlhood fantasies,
I had been plucked from obscurity
By Woman Hood and her false promises.
There are times like this
when I like to think
I'm free of you
I tackle other obstacles every day
the thought of you doesn't cross my mind
and sometimes, you know,
I have a good day
and I face adversity
and I accomplish things
and well, I feel good
and it's nice to know
that you had nothing to do
with making me feel good
I have a ton of things to do today
and I was having technical difficulties
and I had to figure out how to overcome them
and you know, I did everything I could
and I think I ended up ahead of the game
and it had nothing to do with you
and I feel like I've accomplished things today
and I feel like I'm ahead of the game
and it makes me feel good
and it makes me pause and smile, you know,
you little fucking prick
it makes my stop and start to smile
when I think about all that I have done
and all that I can do
and it's all despite you
Jim Sullivam
Would American be willing to give up bowling if they knew how much trouble it has caused mankind? Probably not. Don't people realize that this is the devil's own evil game? Just how many Americans have to die or be seriously injured and maimed before folks wake up to bowling's dangers?
Keglers are dying in alleys, left and right, across this country. Bowlers are getting hit in the head when aiming their balls, falling in the alleys, and generally being embarrassed and humiliated with gutter balls and impossible splits to the point where some of these folks think their lives are no longer worth living.
None of this should shock anyone. Bowling is, after all, Beelzebub's game. He invented it; he controls it. Sure, he'll let you, or anyone else for that matter, play. Satan will even let you make a strike every once in a while at the alley. And he'll let you pick up that difficult 7 -- 10 split for a spare on the rare occasion. But you'll pay a terrible price for the success.
First, it might just be your back that hurts from bowling. Or it could be the matter of a slipped disc or a touch of lumbago, not to mention arthritis. Then it's falling on the alley floor. Oh, a mere twisted knee, a sprained ankle, or the disjointed hip will be all you'll have to contend with. Soon, however, your bones are breaking, your eyesight is getting obscured, and your hearing is going bad. Then will come the day when you will get one or more digits stuck in your bowling ball. If that isn't hell, nothing is!
Physical removal from that equipment requires lubricants. Your pinkies will soon ache. They could also be injured in the process. Gangrene could set in. The next thing you know, you cannot count to ten without using your toes.
The worst problem, though, will be that you can no longer bowl. Of course, you could if you switched hands. That'll work. But you'll have to reorient yourself to the game. And that'll put you out of sorts like nothing else will. You'll have to virtually learn the game all over. The immediate results could be more pains, more sprains, or the daily use of a cane. You're hobbling now, mister or missus. But still you don't quit bowling, do you? Apparently you've got something to prove to loved ones and to yourself.
While you're doing that, you'll look awful to family and friends. But they won't tell you this. Just know that they don't want to be seen with you. And why would they? You'll be absolutely embarrassing to them out in public, let alone in private.
Soon you'll have insomnia.
And all you'll think about, night and day, is you deteriorating bowling game. Your average has probably sunk to less than 100. Leagues no longer ask you to join. Bowling chaplain's come to your door to offer prayers and consolation. Soon, Girl Scouts quit selling you their cookies. Halloweeners don't knock at your door. The neighborhood parents warn their kids to keep quiet so they won't disturb that sick person who lives up at your house -- you!
Of course, it's at this point when the devil makes some of his best deals. He'll heal anyone or anything that hurts, pay prize money, and generally make one fully capable of successfully playing his trade at his bowling alley. But there's a cost involved. And Satan will be calling in his deal before you realize it. Sure, he'll let you have a perfect or near perfect game when the situation calls for it. Your average may improve to the 250 or 280 level in some cases. You body will become an object of bowling alley grace and poise, too. And people will point you out and talk you up. They'll introduce you to their spouses and kids. They'll even want your autograph and to have their photo taken with you.
But, remember, the day of reckoning is at hand. At any moment, you can be pulled out of the lineup. And the Dark Angel will issue you a summons, In the form of a heart attack, a stroke, or, a smack on the head while you're sighting you bowling ball down the alley. So, beware! And stay alert! Any of those afflictions mentioned can really smart!
This friendly warning is for men and women, boys and girks alike. Yes, bowling babies, bowling beauties, and just plain bowling bodies have a thing or two to worry about.
Bowling might seem at first glance to be a mild-mannered sport of tossing a ball down a slick alley to knock ten pins down. What coyld be more fun or simpler? The best advice that could be issued is to have kids and adults, particularly those without formal educations, stay away from this so-called game.
It'll take you in, suck up your funds, grab your health, and remove your freedom. And before you realize it, you'll be signing a pact with Mr. Scratch, too. This would be a wrong move.
On the other hand, if you plan on winning your league's playoffs, succeeding at tournaments, or bowling for dollars, signing with the devil may be the only way to go. After all, your competitors have probably already inked their special pacts with you know who. What's more, bowling alley owners, to obtain the needed money to pay their business, purchase all those extra bowling shoes, and invest in numerous bowling balls had to come up with the wherewithal from somewhere. You can just imagine where they got it!
So bowlers, watch your step!
Dr Linda L Bielowski
A chorus line of closed doors
kicks away the dissonance and details
of breathing other voices in other rooms. Dirty soles scuff
and scrape slate stairs, going up and around in serpentine winding
to enter third floor walkups. Living in cold-water flats with deaf silence,
a faucet dripping a steady heartbeat of wet beads on dry buds. Paintbrushes
arrayed in sticky, peacock plumage take repose in a yellowish-red
porcelain sink. Aromatic turpentine and tempera mingle with citrus
and mold, as a bowl of oranges awaits putrid, pungent demise. A space
heater for a furnace, a hot plate for a stove, and a solitary cup of tea for
sustenance, ever Green. Books, like leather uniformed sentinels, guard
the turntable piled with Bartok's and Dvorjak's symphonies. Unfinished.
Unclaimed. A pawn ticket misplaced. And your body, still as a ferry on the
ice capped river, stiffens in the anteroom of the morgue for no-names
from cold-water flats. While seagulls rock and carry your spirit
above the river, beyond the concrete, to open air, clean freedom,
and spring thaw.
I
An Admiral, A General
A high-ranking military official
when you get somewhere in the military
when you grease the right wheels
when you climb the corporate ladder
when you get as high as you can
when you make your graceful exit
when you 've been adorned with pins
and medals
and badges of honor
and you've got all your stripes on your sleeve
when you accomplish it all
and when you retire
well, then what?
II
the effeccts of age are getting to me
my vision is shot to hell
my contacts kill me and
my glasses are so old
they're only half the strength of my prescription
so when i look at things
i notice the blur more than
i notice the detail
my senses of taste and smell are shot to hell
i throw so much garlic on food for flavor
that i offend my friends and family
and i can't even smell
when i smell
i mean, cologne is lost to me
my one ear is closed most of the time
and it feels like i've got water in my ear
and it hurts for me
to hear myself even breathe
damnit, i can't even sing any more
and do one of the things
i actually like to do
i try to hear beautiful sounds
but people are usually talking over it instead
and all i can hear
is their incessant bickering and whining
and god damnit, i try to enjoy something
every once in a while
and something more irritating
is usually in the way
you know, i'd rely on writing
but for a while, i couldn't even do that
and what do you have then?
i can feel it in my left ankle
like i can't carry weight like i could any longer
and my left knee keeps cracking and popping
and my sister says,
you know,
you've got the 'kuypers' knees
and i guess the kuypers have bad knees
and i was always unaware of that
the knuckle in my right thumb
has been swollen for over a decade
and even the doctors can't find anything wrong
and whenever i write
i grip the pen so tight
that my fingers hurt
and all i can feel
is the ache in my joints
III
and whenever i look down
and see the scars on my body
and i should be proud of some
and some would say that i should be proud
of surviving some traumas
and having the scars to prove it
but all i see are the scars
and all i feel are the aches and pains
is this what scars do to you?
or is it the memory
of surviving the trials
and getting the scars
and is THIS what you have to show
for everything you've done
are these your pins and military stripes
you get after you accomplished your goal?
because what do you do
when you're retired
do people care about your medals of honor
or do you earn so many
that they just weigh you down?
John Bruni
The Idea comes out of nowhere. One moment I’m sitting in the bathroom, holding my mop against my shoulder, ready to jump up and pretend I’m working should my supervisor enter, and the next, I realize: She’d love me if I saved her life.
Yes. It would have to be like that. Women always fall in love and have sex with men who save their lives in the movies. I’m not an idiot; I know not everything in movies is real, but something about this situation rings true.
But how can I save her life? I can’t be around her 24/7, and even if I could, it’s not like there’s a lot of people out there who want to kill her.
But what if I put her life in danger? Not my directly, but what if I could get someone to try and kill her? Or better yet, to rape her? Her shift is up at midnight. It’s not inconceivable. And since I get off at the same time, I could just be walking by, and whoops! There’s a guy trying to rape her! Never fear--Andy Chantelle’s here! I’ll save her, and she’ll let me have sex with her!
Bur who could I get to try and rape her? None of my friends would do it. Besides, she might recognize one of them. It would have to be a stranger, a professional. But I have no connections.
Or do I? My brother got out of jail a month ago. It’s not impossible for him to know someone. You have to make friends in jail, right? Or you will get the business end of a shank or a shaft. I’ve seen movies....
As I punch out, I try to start a conversation with her. She just says goodnight, like everyone else.
I masturbate, thinking about her twinkling eyes and dimpled smile, wondering what her touch would be like. “Soon,׆ I whisper. “Soon, you’ll be in this bed with me, and then I can feel you whenever I want.׆
The next day, I call up my brother, Frito. He’s not Latino; he just like Fritos a lot. His real name is Donald, but no one calls him that.
׆S’up, brah?׆ he asks. He’s white.
׆I need a favor, Frito. I need to talk with...have a meet with someone who can get things done.׆
׆I can do stuff, knowumsayin?׆
׆No, I mean illegal things.׆
׆Jesus, Andy! You better not be on no cell phone, a’ight?׆
׆Nope. No cell phones. So, do you know someone?From pr...from Inside?׆
׆You fo’ real?׆
׆Most certainly.׆
׆I might know someone. Gimmie an hour. I’ll call you back a’ight?׆
Frito gets back to me thirty-two minutes later. “You know a place called Paco’s Taco Bar?׆
׆I think I’ve driven past it before. Isn’t it on 25th?׆
׆Truth. Be there at seven, a’ight? Bring two large.׆
׆Sure. Is that two hundred?׆
He sighs. “Two thousand.׆
׆Okay.׆
׆Coo’. Peace out, brah.׆
~~~
I don’t know why Frito wants me to meet with his brother, but I smell money. Frito says two grand just to listen to the guy, and that’s cool. I need the money, and if the offer’s too heavy, I’ll split.
I make it to Paco’s an hour early, like Mike always taught me. It’s a thinly disguised whorehouse. I’ve been here ten minutes, and three women already offered me their rates.
Frito’s brother is here at seven sharp. He looks just like Frito said: short, skinny, mid-length blond hair combed to one side, very conspicuous birthmark on his throat. Very white.
I call out his name: “Andy!׆
He turns, wide-eyed, looking for whoever called him. He looks kind of like a lost child like that. Definitely not a player.
I raise my hand and beckon him to my table. He approaches without even stopping at the bar.
׆Are you Frito’s friend?׆ he asks.
׆Yeah. Have a seat, gimmie my two large, and say your piece.׆
׆Half now, half when I’m done talking.׆ As if he’s trying to be a player.
׆This ain’t TV. Gimmie the money, or I walk.׆
׆But what if you leave...walk anyway?׆
׆What kid of businessman do you think I am? Listening for me is an investment. I sacrifice some of my time. If what I hear sucks, well, I’m out, what, a half hour at the most? If I like your offer, I stand to make more coin. Get it?׆
He hands me the two grand under the table. I sigh, take the cheddar from the envelope, and count it in front of him. It’s all there.
׆Okay,׆ I say, “now talk.׆
׆There’s this girl I work with,׆ he says. “I love her, but she won’t even give me the time of day.׆ He pauses, as if he expects me to say something, or nod. I do neither, and he continues. “The way I see it...figure it, the only way she’ll love me back is if I save her life. That’s where you come in.׆
He pauses. Still I say nothing.
׆She gets off work at midnight, just like me. The parking lot’s pretty dark. I want you to jump her and try to rape her at knife point. Then, I’ll swoop in, attack from behind, and send you running away. I’ll be the hero, and she’ll fall in love with me.׆ He grins, and I can tell he’s thinking about sex. “What do you think?׆
I sigh. “This plan sounds ridiculous. Have you ever thought of asking her out?׆
׆Uh...well, kind of. The idea scares me half to death.׆
׆And this plan of yours doesn’t scare you?׆
׆No,׆ he says immediately. “It’s a sure thing.׆
׆It’s a stupid thing. Very risky.׆
׆I’ll pay you money.׆
׆You look like the two large you gave me was all you had.׆ Not really, but it’s a good way to get a feel for how much a guy has. They usually retort, “Oh yeah? Well, I got a hundred thou in the bank. How bout that?׆
Andy doesn’t. “I make good tips at the restaurant. Besides, I’ve been saving a lot of money.׆
׆You got a hundred grand?׆ I ask. It’s worth a shot.
He pales. “But, that’s too much.׆
׆It’s a risky plan, and it’s me taking all the risks.׆
׆Fifty thousand dollars,׆ he says.
׆Ninety.׆
׆Sixty?׆
׆I don’t like it, but I’ve get a soft spot for forlorn lovers. Eighty large.׆
Sixty five, for pretending to rape a girl? It’s good coin for five minutes worth or work, but I’d be screwed of the cops showed up. Why would that happen? Sure, this guy will call the cops, but I’d be long gone by then. He doesn’t want to be implicated. That would mess up his romantic plan.
׆Deal.׆
׆Half up front?׆ he asks.
׆Sure. You got it on you?׆
׆I’ll get it. Thirty-two, five. Where can I meet you?׆
׆Here. I’ll wait.׆
~~~
He goes for it. I don’t know his name, and I’m out of pocket thirty-two thousand, five hundred dollars, but she’ll be mine by the end of the week!
I go to the bank, and I show my ID so I can listen to the manager bemoan the large loss of his pleas for me to leave the money in the bank. I take the briefcase I bought, put the money in, and head back to the Taco Bar.
There, I’ll tell him my plan.
~~~
Mike sits in his usual spot at the back booth, smoking and drinking his usual Jack and Coke, heavy ice.
׆Hey, Mike. What’s happenin’, bro?׆ I slide in across from him.
׆Not a lot,׆ he says. “You look happy. Getting any?׆
׆Yeah, but that’s not a big deal. I got money. A job.׆
׆You need me in?׆
I waved my hand. “Nah, but thanks. It’s an easy, one man job.׆
׆No job’s easy. I taught you better than that.׆
׆Yeah, yeah.׆ I roll my eyes before I tell him about the job. When I’m done, I say, “See? Easy.׆
׆No, it’s stupid. Are you insane?׆
׆It’s easy money, Mike. Besides, you’re the one always on my ass about the hundred I owe you over the Super Bowl.׆
׆I’ll cancel the debt,׆ he says. “Don’t do it.׆
׆I already got his money. And he’s got my word.׆
׆What’s he gonna do, go to the cops? ‘Hello, Officer, I gave this guy thirty-two grand to rape the girl I want, and he made off with my money.’ See?׆
׆What did I say? I have morals. They’re twisted, but I have them.׆
׆Honorable thief.׆ I point to my chest.
He sighs, and takes it. “Gimmie the details, just in case things go wrong.׆
That’s why I came to see him, so I can tell him. Just in case.
~~~
Tonight’s the night. I stretch the nervousness out of my legs, arms, and stomach, but the jitters remain. I look at the clock: five minutes to quitting time. Five minutes? Easily an eternity.
After we’re done cleaning the tables, we all get in line to punch out. “Doing anything good for the weekend?׆ I ask her.
׆The usual,׆ she says without looking at me. “Goodnight.׆
׆Goodnight.׆ I can’t wait to touch her breasts. They’re big.
I give her a half minutes before I head out the door. I can still see her, walking toward her car on the other side of the parking lot. Her jacket is shiny, and her butt swings very nicely. I wonder how hard it is. It looks quite muscular.
I grab the baseball bat I left by the dumpster and wait, watching her glow.
~~~
Here we go, the moment of action. This isn’t the first time I was hired to do something to someone, but I still feel the butterflies. It’s just a feeling that never goes away.
I clench the knife in my hand, crouching behind the car. An Accord, just like Andy said. I can see the employee door, and from it come a handful of people. Only one wears a shiny jacket, and she matches the description: long blonde hair, perfect complexion, great tits, and a pair of hips that suggest a helluvan ass.
Here she comes.
Andy’s plan is to hit me from behind. I’m not worried. I’ve taken my share of punches, and Andy doesn’t look very strong. Easy money.
I leap out at her, pressing the blade to her throat and dragging her to the ground. She gets a short scream out before I clamp my hand over her mouth.
׆Shut up or I’ll kill you!׆ I hiss. “You’re cute enough to rape dead, get me?׆
She starts sobbing quietly as I fumble with her belt buckle. Her crotch is warm, and although I’m not into rape, I am a but aroused. I wouldn’t actually do it, though. That’s sick
Her pants are down, and I’m working my zipper, and Andy still isn’t there. What the h--
~~~
--ell you think you’re doing?” I scream as I bring the baseball bat down on his head as hard as I can. I hear the skull crack loudly, and he falls limp. I kick him off her and see her...uh...her vagina. It’s pretty and smooth. I wonder what it tastes like.
׆Andy!׆ she cries. “Thank God it’s you! You saved me!׆
She pulls up her pants and hugs me crying in my chest. Frito’s friend isn’t moving, not even to breathe. The dark puddle spread around his head quickly. Dead, just like I hoped. I have to give the cops someone, after all.
Too bad I can’t get my money back, but it’s worth feeling her breasts like pillows against me.
I smile.
~~~
I’ve been watching them for a month. I still can’t believe that stupid job worked. Andy and Allie got married (Allie had to get rid of her old boyfriend first), less than three weeks after he busted my brother’s head in and was called a hero in the papers. I have their routines down perfectly. Andy is like clockwork, though Allie can be off sometimes.
Regardless, they’re both home by one in the morning. They live on the ground floor of an apartment building.
Arson is easy for me, and in such a big complex, think of all the motives the cops will drive themselves crazy over.
There are just some things a man shouldn’t do to get laid, and Andy did one of these things. I hope he enjoyed it.
Actually, I don’t.
This is for you, Eddie. Rest easy.
you jumped from an airplane once
and you promised that you'd force me to go with you
the next time
you were always jumping out of airplanes,
weren't you
the ring i'm wearing
is on my right hand, not my left
and it's on my middle finger, not my ring finger
and it seems appropriate
you didn't even buy me that ring
and we weren't even married
i bought the ring at a street fair
on belmont avenue in chicago
on the day of our first date
where we watched pulp fiction at your apartment
and i asked you to sit closer
to me
and you kissed me
the ring isn't a complete circle
there are two stones that don't quite meet
and there's a void in the middle
and that was appropriate
cause you didn't even buy it for me
and we weren't even married
i've missed you, you know
i can't even pass the apartment building you lived in any more
i remember when you told me
that someone was shot in that building once
and that maybe it was haunted
but they were shot for money
they were robbed
and this time you just slipped away in your sleep
and this time i was robbed
when one of the stones fell out of my ring
i was sad
but i think you were more sad
you wanted to replace the shiny purple stone
but i said no
and now i still wear the ring
and a stone is still missing
and isn't it appropriate
and we weren't even married
i've missed you, you know
and with your absence the bad memories vanish
where you were someone else once
where you were someone once
where you were alive once
i forget that there was so much about you i hated
because you're not here to remind me
so with this ring, i remember
because now nothing is complete anymore
and everything is missing now
and isn't it appropriate
that there's no next time for us
you jumped from an airplane once
and you promised that you'd force me to go with you
the next time
I've always loved the idea of being in outer space,
so when my chance came
to be a part of a crew
to explore a foreign land
to do what no man has done before
I
I jumped at the chance
People ask me what it's like to be in space, see a new planet.
it's hard to explain all of the details,
there are so many you forget,
like when you see the sun in the sky,
you even see Earth in the distance,
it is still dark where you are.
the Earth's atmosphere makes the sun's light omnidirectional
but here the sky is black too, even during daylight.
Without the Earth's atmosphere
the stars are always out,
there are so many stars in the sky,
so many asteroids,
you can even see the dust in the air.
The Earth's atmosphere is insulation
that stops us from seeing all in the universe.
They create gravity in parts of the space stations
to help people acclimate themselves
but in some stations you have to always hold your equipment
because it can float away
and when we go for mission walks
every step disturbs the land
dust and dirt explodes with every motion
it's a fragile, delicate balance we try to strike
when we venture out into the unknown
THOMAS J. MISURACA
The park bathroom hides within the night fog. With each step, the dewy grass moistens my boots and the cuffs of my jeans.
Avoiding eye contact with passing figures, I push open the wood door. My nostrils are assaulted with the stench of urine. I shield them with my nicotine and spearmint scented fingers.
The door creaks closed and my shadow lurks among other shadows. Some stand, some kneel, some sit. Silent, but for the occasional rustle of cloth and stifled moans.
Ceremoniously, I stand within a stall, unzip my jeans and slide myself through the hole in the cold, metal divider. On the other side waits another, like a priest anticipating my sins.
With a careless caress, the ritual begins. A warm, unseen mouth brings me to life.
I close my eyes and think back.
Back to those Sunday mornings when Billy brought me pastries and coffee in bed and snuggled under my arm as we ate. We read the paper in comfortable silence, breaking for the occasional kiss.
Before that, Juanus, who surprised me after work with rosemary chicken by candlelight, chilled Zinfandel and chocolate truffles. After, he burned incense, ran a bubble bath and recited his poetry while washing my back.
And before that, Gary, my first. We walked the beach hand-in-hand, not giving a damn what the rest of the world thought. As the sun set, we uttered those three little words to each other.
In the darkness, I grasp those feelings, letting the pleasure ripple through me as the warm mouth completes its task.
I ejaculate into the void.
is there any more sanity in the world
I just can't believe that it exists anymore
I haven't seen any proof
with that I'll trust that there is no evidence
and so I rest my case
Dieci Minuti
Ho guardato un cartone animato
dove un ragazzo stato preso per taccheggiare
ha rubato un gioco per se
e ha recuperato alla sua mamma per esso
da prendere un'immagine di se in una cornice
e la sua mamma era cos orgogliosa
e tutto potrei pensare di
era che ho rubato qualcosa una volta
ed i miei genitori me hanno fatto sente come l'inferno per esso
e non prendevo un gioco per mie
Loro prendevo il Natale presenta
tutti me hanno fatto sente
come se dovevo spendere
altrettanto il denaro come tutti altro
e tutti hanno avuto altro un lavoro
ed era adulto
ed ero bambino
ed ero dodici
e ho avuto quindici persone per comprare presenta per
ma LORO prendevo presenta
perche me hanno fatto sente
come dovevo essere pi di un adulto
per gareggiare con loro
per gareggiare per loro
e non ha mai vinto
e non ho mai vinto
e non vinco tuttavia
Dunque questo la parte di perche sono cos il messed su?
dunque questo perche sono carrierista
dunque questo perche faccio cos molto
dunque questo perche sento il bisogno
Sempre riuscire?
Faccio sempre,
Ma sempre al mio costo?
Dez Minutos
Observei um desenho animado
onde um menino foi pegado roubar em lojas
roubou um jogo para si
e comps a seua mam para ele
por receber um quadro de si numa armao
e seua mam era to orgulhosa
e todo posso pensar de
era que roubei algo vez uma
e meus pais fizeram-me sentir-se como inferno para ele
e eu no recebia um jogo para mim
Recebia-os presentes de Natal
todo o mundo fez me sentir-se
como se tenho que gastar
tanto dinheiro como todo o mundo mais
e todo o mundo mais teve um trabalho
e era adulto
e era uma criana
e tinha doze anos
e tive quinze pessoas comprar presentes para
mas eu OS recebia apresenta
porque eles me fizeram sentir-se
como eu tem que ser mais que adulto
competir com eles
competir para eles
e nunca ganhou
e eu nunca ganhei
e eu ainda no ganho
Este parte tambem de por qu eu sou ento messed para cima?
ento e este por qu eu sou um overachiever
ento e este por qu eu fao tanto
ento e este por qu eu siento-me a necessidade
Sempre prosperar?
Eu sempre fao,
Mas e sempre em meu custo?
Ti Minutter
Jeg vokter en karikatur
hvor en gutt fanget shoplifting
han stjal et spill for seg
og han laget opp til hans mamma for det
ved f et bilde av seg i en ramme inn
og hans mamma var slik stolt
og all som jeg tenker p
var at jeg stjal noe en gang
og mine foreldre ftt meg til meg som helvete for det
og jeg fikk ikke et spill for meg selv
Jeg fikk dem Jul presanger
alle ftt meg til meg
som om jeg bruker
som mye pengene som alle ellers
og alle hatt ellers en jobb
og var en voksen
og jeg var en kid
og jeg var tolv
og jeg hatt femten folk kj¿pe presanger for
men jeg fikk DEM overrekker
fordi de ftt meg til meg
som jeg er mere enn en voksen
konkurrere med dem
konkurrere for dem
og det vunnet aldri
og jeg vunnet aldri
og jeg er enda ikke vinnende
Det er ogs denne delen av hvorfor jeg er derfor messed opp?
det er ogs dette hvorfor jeg er en overachiever
det er ogs dette hvorfor jeg gj¿r det mye
det er ogs dette hvorfor jeg f¿ler behovet
Alltid lykkes?
Jeg gj¿r alltid,
Men er det alltid p mine kostnader?
Diez Minutos
Mire una tira humorstica
dnde un chico fue agarrado el hurto
el rob un juego para el mismo
y el compuso a su mam para lo
obteniendo un retrato de el mismo en un marco
y su mam estaba tan orgullosa
y todo podra pensar en
era que robe algo una vez
y mis padres me hicieron me siento como el infierno para lo
y yo no obtena un juego para yo mismo
Yo les obtena presentes de Navidad
todos me hicieron me siento
como si tuviera que gastar
tanto dinero como los otros
y los otros tuvieron un trabajo
y era un adulto
y era un nio
y era doce
y tuve a quince personas para comprar los presentes para
pero obtena ELLOS presentan
porque ellos me hicieron me siento
como tuvo que ser ms que un adulto
para competir con ellos
para competir para ellos
y nunca gan
y yo nunca gane
y yo todava no gano
ÀAs que esto forma parte de por que yo soy tan desorden?
as que es este por que yo soy un persona que rinde ms de lo esperado
as que es este por que yo hago as mucho
as que es este por que yo me siento la necesidad
ÀSiempre triunfar?
Yo siempre hago,
ÀPero es siempre en mi costo?
Zehn Minuten
Ich habe einer Karikatur zugeschaut
Wo ein Junge Ladendiebstahl gefangen wurde
Er hat ein Spiel fr sich selbst gestohlen
Und er hat bis zu seine Mutti fr es gemacht
Durch Erhalten eines Bilds von sich selbst in einem Rahmen
Und seine Mutti war so stolz
Und alle knnte die ich an denken
War, da§ ich etwas einmal gestohlen habe
Und meine Eltern haben mich wie Hlle fr es gemacht fhle
Und ich erhielt kein Spiel fr mich selbst
Ich erhielt sie Weihnachtsgeschenke
Jeder fhle mich hat gemacht
Als wenn ich ausgeben mu§te
Als viel Geld als jeder sonst
Und jeder hat sonst eine Aufgabe gehabt
Und ein Erwachsener war
Und ich war ein Kind
Und ich war zwlf
Und ich habe fnfzehn Leute gehabt, Geschenke fr zu kaufen
Aber ich berreicht SIE erhielt
Weil sie mich gemacht haben, fhlen Sie
Wie ich mu§te mehr als ein Erwachsener sein
Um mit ihnen zu konkurrieren
Um fr sie zu konkurrieren
Und es hat nie gewonnen
Und ich habe nie gewonnen
Und ich gewinne noch nicht
Damit dieses ist, Teil warum ich so in Verwirrung gebracht bin?
Damit dies ist, warum ich ein overachiever bin
Damit dies ist, warum ich mache, deshalb viel
Damit dies ist, warum ich das Bedrfnis fhle
Immer zu gelingen?
Ich mache immer,
Aber ist es immer an meinen Kosten?
Tien Minuten
Ik keek een karikatuur
Waar een jongen stelen gevangen werd
Hij stal een spel voor zichzelf
En hij maakte op aan zijn mamma voor het
Door krijgen van een afbeelding van zichzelf in een omlijsting
En zijn mamma was zo trots
En alle, die ik zou kunnen denken aan
Was dat ik iets eenmaal stal
En mijn ouders maakten mij voel zoals hel voor het
En ik kreeg geen spel voor mezelf
Ik kreeg hen Kerstmis geschenken
Iedereen maakte mij voel
Alsof ik uitgeven moest
Even veel geld als iedereen anders
En iedereen had anders een baan
En anadult was en ik was een kind
En ik was twaalf
En ik had vijftien mensen om geschenken voor te kopen
Maar ik voorstellen HEN kreeg
Omdat zij mij maakten voel
Zoals ik meer dan een volwassene zijn moest
Om met hen te wedijveren
Om voor hen te wedijveren
En het won nooit
En ik won nooit
En ik win nog niet
Bijgevolg is deze deel van waarom ik zo messed op ben?
Bijgevolg deze waarom ik is een overachiever ben
Bijgevolg deze waarom ik is zo doe veel
Bijgevolg deze waarom ik is, voel de nood
Altijd te slagen?
Ik doe altijd,
Maar is het altijd aan mijn kosten?
what is veganism?
A vegan (VEE-gun) is someone who does not consume any animal products. While vegetarians avoid flesh foods, vegans don't consume dairy or egg products, as well as animal products in clothing and other sources.
why veganism?
This cruelty-free lifestyle provides many benefits, to animals, the environment and to ourselves. The meat and dairy industry abuses billions of animals. Animal agriculture takes an enormous toll on the land. Consumtion of animal products has been linked to heart disease, colon and breast cancer, osteoporosis, diabetes and a host of other conditions.
so what is vegan action?
We can succeed in shifting agriculture away from factory farming, saving millions, or even billions of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep turkeys and other animals from cruelty.
We can free up land to restore to wilderness, pollute less water and air, reduce topsoil reosion, and prevent desertification.
We can improve the health and happiness of millions by preventing numerous occurrences od breast and prostate cancer, osteoporosis, and heart attacks, among other major health problems.
A vegan, cruelty-free lifestyle may be the most important step a person can take towards creatin a more just and compassionate society. Contact us for membership information, t-shirt sales or donations.
vegan action
po box 4353, berkeley, ca 94707-0353
510/704-4444
MIT Vegetarian Support Group (VSG)
functions:
* To show the MIT Food Service that there is a large community of vegetarians at MIT (and other health-conscious people) whom they are alienating with current menus, and to give positive suggestions for change.
* To exchange recipes and names of Boston area veg restaurants
* To provide a resource to people seeking communal vegetarian cooking
* To provide an option for vegetarian freshmen
We also have a discussion group for all issues related to vegetarianism, which currently has about 150 members, many of whom are outside the Boston area. The group is focusing more toward outreach and evolving from what it has been in years past. We welcome new members, as well as the opportunity to inform people about the benefits of vegetarianism, to our health, the environment, animal welfare, and a variety of other issues.
The Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology
The Solar Energy Research & Education Foundation (SEREF), a non-profit organization based in Washington, D.C., established on Earth Day 1993 the Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology (CREST) as its central project. CREST's three principal projects are to provide:
* on-site training and education workshops on the sustainable development interconnections of energy, economics and environment;
* on-line distance learning/training resources on CREST's SOLSTICE computer, available from 144 countries through email and the Internet;
* on-disc training and educational resources through the use of interactive multimedia applications on CD-ROM computer discs - showcasing current achievements and future opportunities in sustainable energy development.
The CREST staff also does "on the road" presentations, demonstrations, and workshops showcasing its activities and available resources.
For More Information Please Contact: Deborah Anderson
dja@crest.org or (202) 289-0061