JUNE 2009
AROUND THE WORLD & 80 CONVERSATIONS








If I had three hours to live
I would make sure I was good
with two:
my son and God.
If I had three weeks to live
I'd record a video message for my family and friends,
I'd forget house-cleaning, laundry and debt,
I'd hug my son a lot and stop to smell the roses,
And I would make sure I was good
with two:
my son and God.
If I had three months to live
I'd quit my day job and finish that book,
I'd travel to England and cry a lot,
I'd eat what I wanted and die obese,
And I would make sure I was good
with two:
my son and God.
If I had three years to live
I'd work part-time
and do something meaningful with my remaining years,
I'd let the dirt build up in the corners,
I'd take out credit to travel the world,
But before I die I would make sure I was good
with two:
my son and God.
If I had forever
I'd sleep the first year.
What else?
Let me get back to you later,
how does a thousand years sound?
If I just didn't know how long I had,
I'd probably continue to work at my job
even though I hate it.
I'd tirelessly clean my house
and fret over what people thought
even though they drove me nuts.
Why write today what you can write tomorrow?
I wouldn't stop and smell the roses or water them.
They'd die and I'd buy another pot.
I'd never get to England.
And I'd probably forget to tell my son that I loved him
and felt so proud of him.
I'd forget to make sure I was good
with two:
my son and God.
Again.
Poem by Ann Elle Altman
I love art
That comes in all forms.
I could draw a decent stick man
Since the time I was born... five... twenty. (Hell, I still can't draw one.)
Anyway...
Because of my expertise
I really must say...
What the hell were people thinking...
Praising Monet?
I have seen his self portrait,
His cap and large ties,
But, I think something was missing
In front of his eyes...
I can see how it went
A day long, long ago...
Claude decided to paint
At the river that flowed...
He sat down on the bank
laid out things he had brought,
I forgot them again,
is what ran through his thoughts.
Back at home his father
Watches as time passes,
Why would Claude go paint
without taking his glasses?
He leaves the house
in such a hurry.
No wonder he comes home
with his paintings so blurry.
Claude, no one will buy it,
What will you do now?
I have been thinking father,
And I think I know how.
Marketing dad,
it will be a great hit!
An impressionist work
is what I'll call it!