by Carol Casey The path is trodden, dusty, level.You know it will take youwhere many have gone. Step off—tangles of brambles,sometimes with blackberries,more often with little clawsthat catch on clothes and skin;and tortuous tree roots—inconvenient, sacred data unearthed—subterranean snakelets somehowsifted into snarls for feet to catch.There are stems that twine…
by Michael C. Keith Things have come to a pretty pass when [man] is allowed to invade the sphere of private life. –– Lord Melbourne “Somebody hid a micro camera in the President’s bedroom!” whispered White House staffer Scott Piffin to his girlfriend. “You’re kidding!…
by Michael C. Keith Our host declares the party started Toasting all with a tequila shot Glasses are salted and then saluted Everyone gulps and lungs grow hot * Another! he wails as we all recover This is for all who bare their asses We drink his spirits with…