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Angel

  1. Next To Last Things




    On the Uptown 6


    Always one's sense of humanity—

    on a NYC local train

    until it passes beyond the midtown express stations

    the hub stations where many get off

    and every car jam-packed with people of every description

    and most of them strangers

    all heading in the same direction for ten or twenty minutes

    for
    ...

    Updated 09-13-19 at 03:07 PM by Angel

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  2. Tip Jar Redux

    Continued from:
    https://www.debatepolitics.com/blogs...6-tip-jar.html




    Pharisees on Hollywood and Vine


    So the other day I run into this Old Yank Boomer I know, nice guy, always liked him,

    and he gets his panties in a twist about a movie I said I liked—

    I mean, he's having a calf over this, making a scene right there on the street in broad daylight!
    ...

    Updated 09-13-19 at 05:08 PM by Angel

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  3. On the Way to the Forum 6

    Continued from
    https://www.debatepolitics.com/blogs...forum-5-a.html



    Who is the third who walks always beside you?
    When I count, there are only you and I together
    But when I look ahead up the white road
    There is always another one walking beside you
    Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
    I do not know whether a man or a woman
    —But
    ...

    Updated 09-15-19 at 04:24 PM by Angel

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    Member Blog
  4. On the Way to the Forum 5

    Continued from
    https://www.debatepolitics.com/blogs...forum-4-a.html



    Except for the point, the still point,
    There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

    ―T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton


    On the Way to the Forum
    a gory allegory
    (continued)


    §3


    Third time’s the charm.

    What’s a nice girl like you ...

    Updated 09-15-19 at 03:49 PM by Angel

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    Member Blog
  5. On the Way to the Forum 4

    Continued from
    https://www.debatepolitics.com/blogs...forum-3-a.html




    We must be still and still moving
    Into another intensity
    For a further union, a deeper communion
    Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
    The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
    Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.

    ― T.S. Eliot, East Coker


    On the
    ...

    Updated 09-15-19 at 04:24 PM by Angel

    Categories
    Member Blog
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