Tuesday, September 28, 2021


This traveler hews to the joy of small things
The comfort suites of everyday routines
The invention of tradition and sundry rituals
I'm one who delights in whimsy and the ephemeral

This is a reaction to our fraught and fractured modernity
And the reversals of fortune that come with the territory
In the torrid zone, where the wages are paid in blood and sin
Hard won experience teaches that protection comes from within

For violence, in all its forms, can be disarmed by laughter
As to oppression, the absurd will surely be its master
Contra greed and the arbitrary, I seek out levity
Wounds can always be salved by an aphorism's brevity

The forms are many, for even when the situation is dire
There is no end to the uses of irony and deft satire
What remains then, is facing down injustice and despair
When all else fails sadly, our only weapon is the stare

village huts by K. Baka

Soundtrack for this note


Timing is everything
Observers are worried

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Writing log: March 21, 2021

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