Ignis

Ragu

Holly Golly! Where’s my ride?

The tribes of Israël are camp.
They’re gettin’ closer – gettin’ closer.
The morse-code of the blinkin’ eye
Dayan’s in the tunnels; ham and rye!
Nail and tooth; cut-and-paste;
Holly-Golly! Clay appraised.
Fadin’. Fadin’ like the tide.
And where’s my ride?

Dancing for rain


You are tired of foolishness. Why? Because you want to move forward.
But foolishness is moving things forward more rapidly than you could ever achieve.

When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney’s firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.