Owl Lamp

lampIf you take stock and notice– really breathe deep and notice— the world offers up a million poems a second. It is extraordinary to realize we are traveling at such a light speed and you will stop and say no! Slow down! I can’t capture it all when you move that quick! But the world will throw its head back and laugh and speed up again. That is the moment in which you come into direct contact with your own mortality. You cannot catch it all. Your time is finite. You will only reel in a handful of poems at best. Here is one.

Work, Poem

busWe’re mere inches and millimeters away from the start of the public school year here in NYC, and the District 7 high school where I work is abuzz, I mean abuzz, with go-get-it-ness and get-it-done-ness and other forms of generalized optimism before the students arrive and deflate these many tires. Ohhh man, what it is to teach. What it is.

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