who would believe them winged
who would believe they could be

beautiful who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals

that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin


sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls clicking their bony fingers

envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh


they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own

cupped hands enough not me again
enough but who can distinguish

one human voice
amid such choruses of desire


(lucille clifton, 2007)

-you are allways playing the game
-you cannot win. you can only lose
-you lose when you remember the game
-whenever you remember the game, you have to announce out loud "I lost the game"
-after you lose the game, you have 30 minutes in which you can remember the game without losing
-as soon as you mention the game to someone, they begin playing as well
-the goal of the game is to have everyong on Earth playing

A long long time ago, in a land far far away, there was a large gaggle of potatos. These potatos were all plump and round, except for one. Nobody ever talked to this potato, for he was mushy and awkwardly shaped, nobody even bothered to learn his name. This poor potato couldn't roll around joyfully like the other potatos, he kind of just sat there, depressed, Until thanksgiving day, when a family, desperate for mashed potatos, mashed the mushy potato, he was depressed no more, because he was dead. The end.