Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Am I here again ?

I realize there is no use in the asking but whatever happened to westcoast ? If I remember right she disappeared while she was speaking French.

Coming is more attractive than going but there is room for dispute on the point. A point-of-view thing. Cases to be made & all that ...

Now, I really have to go to work. Anyways ...

she changed her name here for a while and kept posting... can't remember what the new name was... something french

then she went back to AC under yet again another name and continues to post there

maybe it was my breath

or yours

lol

who knows?

people move all over the internet.. happens all the time

Thanks Doreen - I was just wondering. Now that you're here do you ever wonder about moths? It's the season of the moths around here at the moment. Most of them with their wings stretched out are no bigger than a quarter. You ever see the ones stock still on your door screen wings folded & mouth shut? They look like little pup tents. A real Kerouac bivouac. Ready to move out at nightfall.

i wonder a lot about moths.
My home is apparently infested.
Where they come from is anybody's guess.
Was it something I ate? Something I ingested?
I am blessed to not know, perhaps.
Dealing with moths is like playing Craps.
Come seven eleven or twenty-one.
It's a brief interruption of dumb and young.
Or some such shit. Hell, I've no longer tried to
Determine it.

Fricking bugs.
Come to life.
Swat 'em if you want!
That's your strife of whatever you
Claim it to be.

Just look at me!
I'm miffed and confused.
Somehow I think these wings have an
Abuse mechanism........... or someething
Or other.

Hey, Brother!
I donno what.
Maybe I should keep
My big mouth shut.

O hell no don't keep your mouth shut because I like people & words. I mean not so much their point of view or what they are trying to say but how they say say say it - the rhythm the swing the real action the sound of the dice hitting a hard surface the rattle & the roll ... I like the music of it all rather than anything the song might be about ...ya know ? and yeah - frickin' bugs!! I got ants. They have a colony behind one of the electrical outlets in the kitchen. One thing I could never figure about ants is that every ant in a colony is female from the queen on down. The males only exist to mate once with any future queens then die afterwards as the newly pregnant queen flies off to found a new colony. None of the female worker ants ever has sex yet we persist in referring to them as "she". I mean why would anything be a "she" if it couldn't have sex ? Another thing, if I kill one of the ants out scouting my counter tops it will never be missed back at the colony - no grieving no tears no funeral. That's just stone cold. It's no wonder they are everywhere except Antactica.

Really? All the ants are female? I never knew that!

Then, how do they reproduce? Hmmmm......

There are a certain # of males born to any given colony. They are called drones. They do not work. They have wings. Their sole purpose is to fly off with any emerging queens (also winged) and mate in the air. Then both male & female drop their wings. The queen goes off to found a new colony & the male goes off to die. End of the line for him.
Every other ant you see without wings is female. Bees operate the same way.

No kidding! heh... thanks for the insect education!

I've known some men who operate the same way....

You mean no work/ & wings?

Yeah...

"They do not work"

and

"The males only exist to mate once with any future queens"

and

"Their sole purpose is to fly off with any emerging queens"

lol

Now that you have cracked me up I can call it a day.

You guys are all words in my head but this morning you are all so quiet.

Althea May

this poem is a house
sitting close to the road
birds call
traffic passes to other destinations
Althea May used to live
in this house but
not any more
she's moved out of this house
she's moved out of this world
she has moved on

the house moves
or the person, moves

one day we're all scavenging for berries
the next day we're all buried with scavengers
quick as a flash, slow as a waiting room

all rolls on eventually