Time Passes Poem
by David Stone
Saturday morning
the aging veteran of romance
smokes alone, still in bed
his coffee almost needing a refill
thinking about it
There is sun in the window
neighborhood sounds coming up
He has just taken up a new career
having begun to seduce
thin Jewish girls
who belong to other men
Here she comes now
She is leaving the bathroom
Her long legs are bare
Her beautiful hair brushstrokes
the sweet upper rim of her ass
He thinks this could become the perfect profession
provided, of course, her husband never finds out
See also: Tuning Fork
The Emergency Was Always Underground
How decades of documented risk were ignored while a convenient emergency took center stage.
The steam plant and the steam tunnel were never two problems. They were one system. They were only separated later, when separating them made development easier and responsibility harder to pin down.
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Sex and romance and time…