[stylist] apologies

[LoriStay at aol.com]

It was okay.   Lots of walking, lots of time to meditate in the synagogue.  
 I pulled a muscle the other day, so sitting down and standing up was 
difficult, though once I was up, or down, I was fine.   I'm sitting on ice at 
home.   It seems to spur the wellsprings of poetry though.

The following came to me this morning, after hearing that a magazine I'm 
editing is again going to be heavily censored (of stupid things, too).

Censor's Ship
Loraine Stayer

Past the Censor's ship I sail
In my wake our treasures trail
Bobbing in the sea of ink
All must be frightening I think.

Martin Luther King; Granny's pot of gold
MacDonald's dollar menu; Godiva's chocolate bold.
Where have they gone?
Dissolved in the sea of shame
Because, oh horror, of a proper name

Or worse, a hint of theft or murder,
A deadly sin that leaves our writers'
Best-trashed in the bin.

But why?   It must be fear of censure
In a nation once free, 
Now devoid of liberty.


This was partly spurred by the red light cameras on two of our major 
intersections.   Who would have thought I was so paranoid about being watched for 
every little sin?   (Not that jumping a light is a LITTLE sin!)
Lori
In a message dated 9/30/09 1:22:51 AM, n6yr at sunflower.com writes:


> God bless you and your family Lori,
> hope it was a blessed holiday.
> 
> jc
>