August 16.20: Coping

Discouragement abounds,

angst, depression, fears;

my pate completely addled,

my brains ooze out my ears.

I feel as though I’m squeezed

by vise of pointless tripe;

innuendo and conspiracy

spring up in endless hype.

And isolation never helped

the cause of sanity;

it gives the upper hand

to crazed inanity.

I look for logic, reason,

a sense of what should be;

I find it in the bakery

in sweet geometry.

 

 

I do not make light, dear reader, of those who have little food. Or none at all. I know how fortunate I am to think about desserts.

 

Many thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

and to the artist-bakers at la Madeleine.

Connections: April 21.18

Away to the left

in a swatch of bright blue

patisserie aura

is hidden from view.

It’s easy to miss

if you don’t know it’s there,

but once it’s discovered

it’s a rapturous lair.

In its own mythic nook

removed, set apart,

it revels in oven-birthed

edible art.

And thus did these words

bring tears to my eyne

when I read the decree

on the world’s saddest sign.

 

 

Thanks yet again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.

And thanks to Rene’s Bakery, in the Broad Ripple area of Indianapolis, for its incredibly wonderful offerings.

Connections

 

 

Connections: February 17

Einstein’s right!

Hail, fabric of time-space!

Gravitational waves

all over the place!

Black holes and Higgs bosons,

planets hired and fired —

am I here or there?

Yes!

 No wonder I’m tired.

It’s best contemplated

with schnitzel and spaetzle

to keep it all simple:

life’s still a pretzel.

Danke once again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.

Connections