Saint Paul, 14 August 2011

I fished Anarchy Creek

but never reached the

two fish any size limit of

stubborn cutthroat who’d

organized a coalition to

ignore the pulsating skirt

of my Hula Popper.

Leaving me to wonder

why simple law abiding

citizens are restricted

from tossing explosives

into a riffle to coax some

head-strong trout belly-up

into the nether world

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30 November 2012, Saint Paul

Everything is a black box

like car batteries or border collies

barking at chainlink fences

squawking power line crows are

sheet music for a Bach cantata

too difficult for mortals to play

Reflections of passing clouds are

a well-rehearsed tango

between invisible partners

newly formed ice suspends

countless questions unattended

but too buoyant to fall

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Neurosurgeon Paul Kalanithi has written a thoughtful memoir about the deep and abiding love of family, the extreme challenges of medicine and, as he posits, “What makes life meaningful enough to go on living?”

“There is a moment, a cusp, when the sum of gathered experience is worn down by the details of living. We are never so wise as when we live in this moment.”
― Paul Kalanithi

When his life doesn’t turn out as planned, Kalanithi reinvents himself in various personas. He has no idea how much time he has left. The only certainty is that the end is nearer than he, or his loved ones, had ever imagined.

“I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”
― Paul Kalanithi

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Bob MacNeal

Bob MacNeal

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Egalitarian, Feminist, Software Product Developer, Writer, Photographer, Paddler & Maker of Stuff.