Carousing with Other Folks’ Toys

I admit it. I was the kid who blew up army guys with firecrackers and M-80s.  I never hurt a living creature (well, maybe grasshoppers in the way of the mower), but I loved doing violence to plastic.

I got a little of that same sense of happy mayhem with this list of 33 Ways to Stay Creative.

And here is the mayhem:

I recommend it against the tonic of accepting what others say without pause for thought and question:  is what they profess any better than what you profess.  If not, then hack away, my friends. Hack the fuck away.

An Accounting of What Can Be Counted and What Counts

An Accounting

We lost enough trees 

planet-wide last year 

to occupy New Zealand.

But how many of those 

were beloved?

How does that count out?

How many had been 

adopted & planted & raised

like a member of the family?

How many were gingkos

that started out as a whip

and grew into a 

great

gangly 

adolescent 

annoying the power lines

as it shot up?

How many were lonely Damson plums

on a college campus 

full of Bradford pears?

I planted my son’s placenta

under a Grimes Golden apple.

Tell me how to count that. 

Please. 

If 

you

could.