Tag: No Good Comes of Walt Whitman

  • Mr. Grinch

    There is an unwritten, often unmentioned social contract that takes place when you do what you think is something selfless. We like to think that we are altruistic. That is, unselfish; showing concern for others. And by and large, I think we are. We can always do more, of course. There are some things we […]


    Yeah. I fucking WON that shit. I wrote over 50,000 words of a novel in 30 days. Technically, in fewer than 30 days, but who’s counting? Other than me. Now. I should tell you, I started a bit late. And a week into the process, I discovered that the thing I was writing would be […]

  • O Lamy, my Lamy!

    – Remember: No good comes of Walt Whitman – O Lamy! my Lamy! my lovely pen is gone; The pen has written every word, the letters sought not done; The book is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While reading eyes the metric verse, the poem grim and daring: But O heart! […]

  • Tree Bending V

    “D- did WHAT!?” R- said, a hint of laughter in her voice. R- is Bri’ish, and her accent is best when she’s talking about something ludicrous. “He jumped out of a tree, and now he can’t remember where his parents live, and his dogs need to be let out to go pee, and…” “What the […]

  • Tree Bending IV

    “Umm…D-?” I asked tentatively as we drove up the hill. “Yeah?” he said, his arm across his forehead. “Where do your folks live?” There was rather a long pause. “My, uh, parents live with me?” “No, but that’s where your dogs are.” “I have TWO dogs,” he said. “You do.” “They like dancing.” “Um. Okay. […]

  • Tree Bending III

    We sat together under the tree, the broken tree, for a little while. Every now and then, my friend would say, “Gee, I have a bad headache,” or “this is a very odd day”. I sat beside him, agreeing with him that it was indeed a very odd day, or that it made sense that […]

  • Tree Bending II

    It was difficult not to panic, really. We were several kilometres away from the car, through hills and hummocks and light forest. My friend was not a big man, but I was fairly certain I couldn’t carry him the whole way. I began looking around for something with which I could lash together some boughs […]

  • Tree Bending I

    “Birches” by Robert Frost When I see birches bend to left and rightAcross the lines of straighter darker trees,I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen themLoaded with ice a sunny winter morningAfter a rain. They click upon themselvesAs the […]