Dear Chris Bell,

Hello! My name is Mary. I'm your target demographic. We haven't met.

I'm a registered democrat, I'm educated, and I vote. According to some: all the time.

Here's the thing, Chris... I knew about Kinky Friedman from way back when, and I think he's hysterical. As much as I'd like to throw Texas government a big 'ole "Fried-U" and vote independent, I do care about things like schools and healthcare, and I'm not altogether confident that Mr. Friedman can govern and smoke a cigar at the same time. At this point I'm probably what the West Wing would classify as a "swing vote," or at the very least, somewhat undecided.

Why aren't you courting me? The lesbians are. They called and asked me to vote for Ellen Cohen and I was like, "Sure! Ellen's great. You all do a great job, keep it up."

So why do I keep seeing "Grandma" in the evening news and Kinky in the parades and I don't even know what you look like?

Get your act together, man. Or I'll be voting for the Jewish cowboy.

Love,
Mary

Lucky, unlucky

Weather's cooling down... means open windows, open doors. Let the cat explore on her 10 foot stay-in-my-sight radius. She won't wander; she's too scared of life.

Inside, cleaning, I find shells of ladybugs dotting the walls and floors. It reminds me of college, where they somehow found their way into my yellow concrete dorm room, and died. This was 500+ miles away in another lifetime.

At the time, I wrote:

"Was this genocide?
Or an organized effort
sponsored by the insect kingdom:
hordes of highly suicidal ladybugs
fly in my half-opened window at night
past the fan blades
past the candle’s flame
they land on the walls
the desks, the carpet,
they land and sit
and quietly let life slip away."

It's nice that some things don't change across years and geography.
I just wish the damn ladybugs would lighten up.
Or, you know, evolve.

"A Tribute to Courage"

Driving to Houston from Dallas, TX,
you pass nothing.

For a really long time.

& then
from out of nowhere:
SAM HOUSTON!

10x larger than life & porcelain
complected--but only
for a minute, whizzing by
at 80mph.

You could stop and buy a postcard
at the visitor center, created
for his personage.

If you were as large
as Sam Houston the Statue,
you could get here faster:

hopscotching through clover intersections,
sprinting alongside stretches of highway,
pausing to tip your hat to Sam & company

who would probably enjoy the sight, stop
and snap pictures, yelling
"Hey there mister"
and "I'll be damned"

Possessing 10x your normal charm
you would tell a tall tale
with a punchline like thunder

head in the clouds
bighearted
feet like wrecking balls
to the miles of cratered land
behind you.

Oh, man.

Sorry I missed this.

Lending Out Books

You're always giving, my therapist said.
You have to learn how to take. Whenever
you meet a woman, the first thing you do
is lend her your books. You think she'll
have to see you again in order to return them.
But what happens is, she doesn't have the time
to read them, & she's afraid if she sees you again
you'll expect her to talk about them, & will
want to lend her even more. So she
cancels the date. You end up losing
a lot of books. You should borrow hers.

-Hal Sirowitz