A Poem from the Bomb Squad

• Hiked Catoctin, the Camp David loop, Earthgirl fell, bruised her knee, not nearly as bad as once, and that wasn't on Catoctin, 
• she's ok.
• This hike is the one I broke my face,
• and one I didn't write about a freak thunderstorm hit while miles from car, was actually hair-raising, the lightning.
• We have hiked it without harm or fright dozens of times and will again, though perhaps go for remoter on the first weekend of November when many people - I say this without snark - spend one of their few days in the woods a year because of the leaves.
• Leaves down, turned brown, fell, bad leaf season, all the rain, I heard a park ranger say.

• Fine metaphors abound.
• When Wednesday gets here and everyone who lost says the other candidate cheated remember which party stocked, is stocking, will continue to stock judicial seats and which party did, is doing, and will continue to let that party do so with barely a whisper, and then ask why.
• Winter woods are prettiest but shouldn't be winter woods the first weekend of November.
• I guess less ochre this winter.
• Today's blaze:

• Bigger, better, at other place.
• Kinda figured out the camera, getting there.
• The Crash that Failed: the financial crash of 2008 (and motherfucking Obama and the Rise of Trump).
• America v every Socialist experiment of any significance.
• The unfortunate rejection of resistance.
• Beyond inciting team spirit before a big game, embittering poor white males who can't get laid an outstanding recruitment tool for the private police that will enforce your obedience now that elite have decided mall cops are cheaper than paying you your social security,
• Mococop hiring ads airing on WTOP during morning drive, DC
• cops on asses of Metro buses.
• Maggie's weekly links.
• { feuilleton }'s weekly links.
• Sylvia Plath's last letters.
• All I want to do is hike with Earthgirl.

[A poem from the Bomb Squat     poem from]

Clark Coolidge

A poem from the Bomb Squad     poem from
just a little girl     a never-written poem about
a lost poem     a final poem about the last poem
no two people agree on the same poem the same
green     the same poke     a true sock
whatever the subject you leave a hole for the poem
you'll be back later for the only poem that remains
what the poem says is not what it's talking about
a fatal fall from the bridge of the poem
only the poem people are looking for
the price?     one spend poem     a single
ball of meat     complex twist of a cracker
I once saw a poem alone in the sun
never had much fun after