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Please try again later. Format: Paperback. Gone is the Protestant work ethic: the sense of community and the rule of law. In has come a new America following quick on the heels of a doomed Europe that is obsessed with equality and rights: a country that has forgotten the principles of its founding fathers and is now obsessed with a deeply flawed and worrying cradle to grave mentality. What Patrick does is to place this malaise into a lucid and analogous story, which follows the incompetent and buffoonish policies of Amabo, the Bright Mouse in the White House.
Now ask yourself this question: why should I read this book? Well, as churlish as the title may at first seem, there is a serious point here. I have always thought of Chief Amabo as a father figure, and so should you. He wakes up every day wondering how best to care for you.
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I encourage you to read this book and place your own life into what is being said by Patrick; people need to wake up and smell the gravy. Our own self-destruction is happening now and it needs to be stopped. One person found this helpful. I really enjoyed this book. It was written in a way that I found very easy to follow, and I had a very clear picture of in my mind of everything happening in the story. I think it presents a very possible and realistic perspective on how society could change right under noses, and provides some scarily familiar ways in which society is manipulated through politics and by politicians.
It's also very funny at times, which is surprising considering the serious nature of the story, but I didn't want to put the book down and would certainly recommend it. Well written and lucid. A novel I think most people would benefit from - especially the younger generation. I'm thinking of making it a required reading for my high school English class next year. Having said that, I think most adults would also appreciate its take on modernity.
I absolutely loved this book. Ryan Patricks debut book is one for the ages! Definitely worth the purchase price. Very well thought out. I can't wait for his next book! See all 4 reviews. Amazon Giveaway allows you to run promotional giveaways in order to create buzz, reward your audience, and attract new followers and customers. Learn more about Amazon Giveaway. Set up a giveaway. There's a problem loading this menu right now.
Learn more about Amazon Prime. Get fast, free delivery with Amazon Prime. We just Sit here passively assuming the summer will be too hot. Better get our air conditioners now like we live in New Orleans. I think you should live where you can go out All the time. For me, cold is better than hot, but who cares? For now hold a space Till we travel again across time zones faster than the wind did blow today in New England.
Do you wanna tango in winter? Behind closed doors nobody can see me. What are those company people thinking behind closed doors? How do you turn on a water fall? Show me the way to hydro power everything around here. We could watch the waterwheel spin see the mills operate again. Create a better utopia than the Shakers did back then. We can change the grid, send back electricity. We could build more windmills to spin in concert with the waterwheels.
We could call it Purple Haze. East Nassau is not the foggiest place on the planet. It says something about cats feet. I guess it depends on the cat. But my bank account! Satellite pictures are on the screen and the occasional local picture from an amateur photographer. A yearly world news update from our little corner of the globe.
ISBN 13: 9781479181780
No snowshoeing poets found this winter, just trackers looking for big cat paw prints. The modern out of this world for the new millennium poet trackers tracking without snowshoes dreaming of new ways to speak about the weather, hooray! Could both sides belong to the same person? After all, the human mind is vast as an occluded front, eh? Begin what? The weather is having a revolution. Which side is going to win? The sun is going to win. This solar system sees all wars and keeps moving through space like seeds from plants that some call weeds.
They seem to address us better than any general could speak to his troops before battle. Leafless branches draw lines in the grayish sky. No clicking of the mouse to change such a format that surrounds us in these strange winter days of living in a new growing zone without changing location. We can change cups of coffee into wine and turkey into soup. Perhaps a Bach-like character could write a new cantata to go along with this scenario. How sweet that would be, sweeter than any hobo wine.
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So what, so what is the scenario? What will we grow? Will it ever snow? If a mouse could make coffee, then a house could, or trees. Have you ever been to the Joe? We once sat next to a secret tower above one river that has many bridges that later flooded. We did not drink at the humble coffee house, but later read poetry at a jazz bar after troubled waters.
Another time we played whale songs at a secret radio station after walking to a lake on a hidden trail. We once went bird watching near shark invested waters and later watched turtles lay their eggs after their long ocean journey. Sometimes we travel above the clouds, sometimes we walk. Once we saw hummingbirds fucking in the air. And we will all know the truth about wires. All those wires connected to wooden poles And all those pipelines running through the wilderness. On some north American range - land, ocelots roam instead of in their native home. What is this land where the rebels took a stand?
Could they ever imagine how small the planet would grow and now with a hole in the ozone Truer than the moon being made out of cheese. The arghs have it! Does the sky have its eyes opened or closed? Will there be extra thunderbolts or just the right amount? We have a storm painting on the wall but no storms outside today. Be at the beginning of the weather or be at the blizzard of your birth. Or maybe not What does Einstein have to say about the weather?
Live in the weather moment of the day? Some kind of mathematical weather puzzle? Never mind Einstein - what is the weather thinking? Maybe the starfish can tell us. You are my only blueberries falling from the sky poet. We blew up the scene with our weather love. Always ready for prime time and overwhelmed with poesy. Surely a weather watcher she would find favor on our weather porches. Giant white ones perfect to slice for a non-beef sandwich. They say that the fungi is fruiting three weeks earlier than fifty years ago. Go figure! Perhaps we will grow more spinach.
We can always use more green.
There is a mushroom called the scarlet elf cup or cap. We see it sometimes. Some years. At the moment big mushrooms grow former bench site that, when sliced, look like chocolate cakes but an acrid powder flies from them when they are touched. Imagine making love to one of them. John Cage, who was to become a mycologist, started eating mushrooms to provide free food when he was a student. He got sick only five times. Often when you get sick from eating questionable mushrooms, you only get queasy, but you might die. Best to have a grandparent familiar with everything that grew around here for years.
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There are 25 of them! A lucrative family business to keep us in poetry forever. But we are anyway. Like cartoon fluffy clouds moving across the blue sky. And we could be in potatoes forever if blight keeps away from the crops. New potatoes, purple potatoes, golden potatoes, there must be five hundred varieties of tubers. And we can write poetry while eating potato salad under the hot summer sunshine feeling the sweet breeze as butterflies float by and when the sun sets we will watch fireflies dance their dance.
The owls will hoot hoot from tree tops swaying in the nighttime air currents. Yet, some places are still closed because of storm damage. Severe weather abounds in these changing times. Some storms we will be happy to watch from the front porch. But, please someone buy us a generator. The kind that automatically turns on the minute the power goes off. Then we can continue to write without candle light.
Who needs snow unless you ski. They have a lot of machines there that cause climate change and they want to drive more cars than anybody else. I bet somewhere in China right now a poet is writing about climate change and the weather. Politically incorrect it is not to notice That black people are of different shades, But politically incorrect could be replaced by Stupid.
It is ok to have fun? Make white friends? Do white people crave snow more than black people? She, a conceptual artist, did a piece about passing for white She teaches philosophy now.
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Once the kids in p. The darkest black people I ever saw were the Senegalese. Lorenzo Thomas who died is the best black poet I ever met. Black women have a great attraction to Phil. It was a place to get some breakfast and it seemed to be filled with Rednecks. They call them Rednecks from being outdoors all day in the sun. They being poor white farmers. Now most of the farms are run by giant corporations.
Or farms can be turned into lawns.
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