Thirty-Seventh Entry

Found this in an article about Alan Greenspan and thought it was worth repeating:

"Before the G-7 discussions started, Greenspan was awarded the Freedom of the City of London by Britain's Treasury chief, Gordon Brown. The award is a symbolic honor dating to medieval times and bestows the rights to drive sheep across London Bridge and to be hanged with a silken cord if sentenced to death."-Martin Crutsinger, Associated Press

Also, I thought the man's name was Golden Brown at first, which I was sad to see I was wrong about.

My classes at the New School are ending, and I feel awkward about it. This is all the education I ever planned to have (not that there was a plan...) and now of course I have to start doing something. There are tons of things I would like to do but I'm not sure which to do and which to give up as silly dreams. And how to go about it? I hate my job by the way, I am already looking around for a new one. DON'T WORRY, I'm not going to quit or anything, I just don't want to be asked to come in at 6:30 AM again for any reason but esepcially on short notice.

Here's my poem:

AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN AND ANOTHER OFFICER

They dismount their horsies.
The thrill of the cold strikes the sparkle of the snow on her white-cloth poncho.
When the sun peaks out, the officers snap in unison, without looking at each other.

The gentleman doffs his top hat.
He spins and ruffles his tails, and rabbits pour out of the hat, too many for the eye to grasp.
The officers look at one another as if they don’t know what to say, and what they say makes her nervously grin.

The pink sky washes off the remaining stars.
Her breath is muffled and quick in the sea of white fur and frightened pink eyes, ready to burst.
When they do burst, the officers will ride down the gelatinous waterfall with both sets of arms raised.

You can feel their ruffly uniforms stir.
You can smell the dried blood from the slaughter and you can find the valley with the endless rabbits on spits.
You can find her there, rustling her long dark hair until the snows shake off before she bites the meat from the bone.