In yer dreams.
I am transitioning very slowly out of the Mary Oliver world back to the political world. Today's glistening greens and low-hanging lilacs kept me in the land of the living a day longer. Here's a transition poem. Tomorrow -- no promises. It's so nice to get one's head out from under the Bush. Yeah, click here, she's worth it.
by Mary Oliver
I have a little dog who likes to nap with me.
He climbs on my body and puts his face in my neck.
He is sweeter than soap.
He is more wonderful than a diamond necklace,
which can't even bark.
I would like to take him to Kashmir and the Ukraine,
and Jerusalem and Palestine and Iraq and Darfur,
that the sorrowing thousands might see his laughing mouth.
I would like to take him to Washington, right into
the oval office
where Donald Rumsfeld would crawl out of the president's
and kneel down on the carpet, and romp like a boy.
For once, for a moment, a rational man.