Profiles In Storage

Last Sunday we went to our storage unit in Brooklyn to visit all of our stuff. While Lauren and I suffer exile in NJ, we have most of our things in Brooklyn. We just acquired some more stuff from Lauren's parents and went to add that to what's already there - books, furnishings, kitch & kitchen items all stacked and boxed and waiting to be set free. Frankly I'm a little worried about our possessions. It's been five months plus two or three more before we move back to the city. Not exactly "hard time" but prison changes things. Our chairs and sofas will be just a little harder. Our books and clothes a bit rougher around the edges. We heard rumors that half of our fine bone china has fallen in with Aryan skin heads and the other half with the Triads. This info came from a set of measuring cups. Despite being built for precision they do tend to exaggerate.

Haiku Corner

Way, way back, in the days when "Old School" was just "School" I was fiction editor of the Prattler, Pratt Institutes school newspaper. I had a segment called Haiku corner. Each issue I'd sort through hundreds of haikus that were submitted - all of them from the same two guys who'd get stoned and write poetry - and pick the best. Because most of the haikus I recieved started with the line, "Man, I am soooooo high!" I would occasionally write my own haikus to spice things up a bit. That's actually a good tip for all you aspiring writers and poets out there. If you want to be published, it's good to be the editor. That's how I got this little gem in the paper:

All the ladies love
Ernie the dolphin because
he doesn't wear pants

Now that I'm oh so much older, my material is more mature. I wrote this haiku this morning:

Now with all this hair
in my nose I wonder why
my nose still gets cold