There's Beauty in the Bellow

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I knew them first as the chrome and ochre yellows that seemed to scream from the brush of the man who cut off his own ear. But here, so affectionate, the lionheads turned upwards to follow the movement of their beloved, until their necks are limp and wrung, their spent gold drooping heavy on their shoulders . O Lord, I cannot hear You For the ticking of the clock, For the humming of the refridgerator, For the sighing of the air conditioner. Speak, shatter these dim voices, These clattering machines With their incessant insistent grey din, Explode into the dimness of the world.

Sidewalk art: advertising the local yoga studio Crazy balloon hats Funny balloon people A rapt audience Jousting The all-important jumpy castle Some cute people Flipping hamburgers Dressing hamburgers Pretty good for just a dollar . . . and a friend A local oddity Behind the scenes: somebody ain't too interested The light is fading . . . And we got ourselves some moosick. The Afters are supposed to be a big deal. And they were pretty good. But they also came right on the tail of Pastor Wilson's sermon on effeminacy in Christian men. And I wondered what the weird hairstyles and deconstructed clothes in varying degrees of drab were for . I wasn't able to stay long enough to hear any rank cliches, but they probably existed somewhere among the general what's-the-point . But still, I enjoyed them. I just didn't find them terribly original creative. But Bryan Duncan was better--though of course he represents a whole 'nother sandwich filling of culture that come...