Earthtribe-Gather: UnderFoot    
 UnderFoot1 comment
picture12 Feb 2009 @ 06:56, by John Ashbaugh

Sit by the fire inside, the cabin in winter,
enclosed with a set of walls,
under the very recently full moon.

I gotta get my daily set of news articles
about what is going on
on the other side of the world.
Then there’s the local murders,
drug busts, and money laundering schemes,
and those stories told
about why somebody lost his or her mind.
The global food crops are being manipulated,
and that means here in the U.S.A. just as well,
and good seeds are being vaulted away
on a remote island of northernmost Norway.
I’m shoppin’ down here at the Sunflower
some three-quarters mile up the road.
What does a food shortage look like in the U.S.A.?
Can anyone imagine.?
We know what pictures of it looks like
in African villages and with Bangla Deshi farmers,
and we’ve heard of the great famine in China
in the earlier part of the twentieth century;
so what does famine look like in the U.S.A.?
Not a chance, you say.!
While the tourists take rides in their space-tourist busses,
and with nuclear warheads aimed at all population centers
and military bases, the world is ready to go off
like a fourth of July bomb bursting in air.
Just to set the tone for my emerging day.

An array of composition papers to be reading today.
Lots of research paper drafts of two to five pages each
on a wide variety of self-chosen subjects.
Then there’s a few from assignments on the subjects of Inspiration,
how something works or how to do something,
and personal experiences with the psychology of advertising.
The ten week quarter is drawing to culmination, and two weeks remain.
The final research paper will be the big ticket item.
Some are right on top of the overall process,
and others are just barely getting their canoes in the water,
much less startin’ paddlin’.
Interesting thing about being a teacher
Is pointing the way, and then seeing
Who takes the steps and who doesn’t.

A field cat has adopted me and my cabin.
I call him Underfoot.
He’s a blond, tiger shorthair
whose meow is a whisper.
Everywhere I walk, he is always underfoot,
and I have to watch him closely
and measure my steps so I don’t step on him.
He gets in for a few minutes in the morning
and a few minutes at night.
Lately, I’ve been giving him a chunk of cheese
or some beef from an Arby’s.
It’s cold out there, and I’m feedin’ him,
but I can’t keep him inside,
because he’s too much underfoot.

Day in the Life.
*--_->
JA



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27 Jan 2017 @ 21:18 by Essay Writing Service @39.48.53.158 : Articles
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