Ordinary Ordinary

Isn’t it neat how ordinary, ordinary reality is.

I started to say that you shouldn’t do anything second handed, but everything they do in the City is second hand.

There might be some who could see from “here to there,” if it weren’t for all the distracting sights in between (or even think to that distant place, were it not for all the thoughts in between).

Has Life ever had Men call one of their poets a “serious, potent voice of his age,” who was not morbific, moss-coated, and as pessimistic as a banker on vacation?

Life goes on till the job gets done.

J.