been feeling like my skin has been flayed and my naked nerve endings are twitching in the cold winter air. some days are like that, when a car horn can make me jump near outta my skin. the walk to work, the need to work for my, and my family, bread tightens these pressures. ah, but such is living, that we often must do what we can to get going.

so it is with humility that I read Zimbabwean poet Julius Chingono's diary. Chingono works as an explosives contractor, and what keeps him sane, I suppose, is a sense of the absurd. in other words, a hell of a sense of humor. that is one of life's necessities. that and to try to live life at a slant, I muse.

anyway, as the great John Wieners said in an interview about the political tensions in his time, nay our time: Yes. Lyricism is still a quality of a political career.