Saturday, August 26, 2017

Saturday commute cxlv: Let it breathe

     I don't know how an equi-
     valency was established 
     between this expression 
     and don't pour it yet, 
     but one can spend a life
     reflecting on its waste.

Oscar Kindelan

Francis Kokoroko
Accra Photo Journal

Friday, August 25, 2017

People say, he's the life of the Party

   'cause he tells
   a joke or two -

   Trouble is, it's
   joke, always for
   the same purpose,
   never so clearly
   perceived before
   now. He wants to
   be excused. Time
   to think it over.

Alexander Calder
Lithograph on paper
Los Angeles County
  Museum of Art

Armani nirvana

A Graham Greene satire from
the halcyon days of Fulgencio
Batista is not, necessarily, 
the likeliest interpretation
of the present charade - but
why not? Its foully flamboy-
ant polo club and expense ac-
count posh are so well mimed
in our sumptuously corrupted
epoch, that its merry premise
of prospering by pure falsity
needs scarcely to be stated.

Yes, but any playful allusion
subsists on such a stretch of
mirth that Our Man in Havana
only leaps to mind as sorely
missed in kilt-ridden times.

Graham Greene
Our Man in Havana
Heinemann, 1958©

Fernando Kodiak
Tom Bird

Thursday, August 24, 2017


 Toothbrushes in a rack on an
 orphanage wall, a rainbow of
 identification for those who
 are learning as they're fed.
 Yes this is about monuments.

ii, iv  Francis Kokoroko
          Accra Photo Journal

Wednesday, August 23, 2017


 How very like health
 human dignity begins
 to look, as soon as
 it departs



Luis Barragán

Monday, August 21, 2017

What more could one ask of Afghanistan?

I certainly hope our Impresario-
in-Chief will feel himself in a 
position to promise us all a res-
toration to greatness in the Af-
ghan textile trade, for our next
few hundred billion. Vestments
and lap throws will mark a high-
er return on investment than we
have achieved so far, in this
longest of all foreign wars,
and might be just the thing to
seize the luxury goods imagina-

I am positively wearing out a
sumptuous but delicate scarf, a
traveling friend brought me from
that redoubt of cashmere grazing. 
I only hope, by now, that this
long-standing skeptic of every
catastrophe he didn't precipit-
ate, himself, will not tamper 
with the war's salubrious prop-
agation of poppies, to say noth-
ing of teas, and other herbs. Or
should we make less light of our
wars, just now, and leave that
confidently to his ministrations? 

Alexander Calder
Tapestry in jute

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Changing throats

It has been such a wonderful week
for moral clarity that one almost
hates to discern a strait, or ev-
en so much as a shadow to extenu-
ate this invigoration. The papers
and their digital appendages are
full of demands for extirpation
of impacted illusions, under the
impeccable provenance of yet an-
other Presidential provocation.

If there is anything more ener-
getically to be interrogated,
than a superfluous validation
of a vengeful premeditation,
it surpasses irony in emulating
the tone of a false just cause, 
to be embracing that monster
inherent in the absolutist vi-
sion. Tired tirades, ever chang-
ing throats. As is so often the
case with our incumbent Prophet,
sacrificing regard to prove his
case, he has exposed the vulner-
ability of even the good as the
distinction between equivalent
imperatives, such as our plan-
et's fundamental interest in
climate science, and his Party's
equally compelling need to crush
to perfecting our expectations.