The Oak knows
when it is young
and to the sky it climbs
and the shade below
is a comfort.

And time passes by
and the Oak knows its strength.
It does not go
but spreads its roots below
with no permission.

And the old Oak knows
it cannot shake the moss
and it does not try
to meet the sky
instead it spreads its branches wide
and you and I
in the shade below
look up through the leaves
of the old Oak tree
and we feel comfort.

Beneath the shade of the groves
I ran as the cool grey sand trapped my feet
And backing up I fell into it with glee

I gazed up with wonder through the citrus leaves
At the blue sky peeking through
My face was dotted with bits of sun
As I dreamt the daydreams of youth

I drifted off on my back without a care
Until Grandmother called to me
“Come in for lunch! I made some sweet tea!”

Awakened, I ran and joined her
And we walked hand-in-hand
Past the big tractor and the shed
And looking down at me she said,
“Now just mind you don’t wander
too far out yonder”
And in my head
I obeyed.

And looking back over my shoulder I knew
There would be yet another wonderful day
In Grandfather’s groves
where Grandmother called to me

Dear Kind Sirs,

I hope this letter finds you well. A fortnight ago I wrote to you in a most accommodating manner, and I explained the fact that since I no longer reside in your fair city, I shall no more require your services for my cooker or lamps.
Most alarmingly, however, during my weekly postal station visit, I discovered a rather vulgar notice from you demanding that I regurgitate “final” payment.

Once I recovered my breath and regained my color, I came to the unfortunate realization that the fatal error was born in your establishment. I realize this dreadful news must be most unpleasant for you. I would like for you to know, however, that I am most forgiving of your gross hiccup in judgment, and I fully understand if you would like to discontinue our correspondence. We shall always, after all, retain fond memories of our liaison. I for one will regale with great zeal the many heated meals I was able to prepare with your colorless, odorless substance. As well, your technology rendered the candles I previously used to light my parlor virtually obsolete!

Thank you for your consideration. Since we now must sadly sever our ties, please do be advised that if another piece of correspondence regarding any sort of payment presents itself in my postal box, I shall be forced to utilize more graphic vernacular in my next letter to you.

Sincerely,

C. II (your former faithful customer)

In Satin or Semi Gloss
Defintely not Flat.
Years from now
You will still shine.

As I sit on the floor of my cell, shivering, the backs of my hands my only cushions against the cold eastern concrete, I am suddenly forced to contemplate my utter failure to obey any authoritarian constructs in life, even the rebellious ones. The Red Guard let me keep my cat. They toss him scraps of filet mignon and Chilean sea bass (what is it with that fish - it’s everywhere!) while I get Brach's circus peanuts and water. It's a cruel display of mockery. The poor wog in the next cell over is assembling an IKEA entertainment center with glass doors, drawers and a TV. stand. His cries of pain and desperation are ear-piercing. The guards here don't mess around. I decide that for the time being I can no longer tolerate being awake, so I do what I do best- curl up in a ball. As my eyes slowly close and the sound of cat mastication fades, I ponder: "Did David Lean think "romance” when he decided to have Zhivago's face hidden in partial shadow during that scene with Lara? Because when I see it I think "Nosferatu".

I looked across the table at her. Her eyes twinkled with that all-knowing look of someone about to make a difference. My stomach tightened as I feared what she would say. We had been through so much together up to that point, and I met her knowing that things might not be the same this time around. Then she opened her mouth to speak in that wonderful Indian accent. "You don't owe any-ting... nooo Federal, noo State...look here...do you want to see?" I sat agaze at the wonderment of what she had said, my jaw resting gently on the floor. Suddenly a tear formed in my eye as I slowly fixated on the computer screen. "Bu....but...I mean, I understand the capital gains loss from the stock options, but what about the early redemption penalty on the Roth IRA??" "Look here, I will show you," she retorted with a smile. She then rattled off some numbers and jotted down some equations and I feigned understanding while in reality I couldn't tink about any-ting but leaping over the quaint curved table-desk and throwing my arms around her and picking her up off of the navy blue carpet and twirling her around in a primal dance of shear elation. Instead I thanked her three times, took my folder, walked out the door and around the corner and proceeded to make several motions that actually caused a couple of people on the street to turn around and look at me. That's hard to do in Manhattan.

New York is....

Beautiful, frustrating, dirty, sexy, aggravating, comforting, breathtaking, enveloping, elusive, sublime.....

You can use it. You will never own it. It owns you. It is inside you forever....

New York.

:) 4/11/06