Affairs at the Jupiter hotel

We must cast our bread Upon the waters, as the Ancient preacher said, Trusting that it may Amply be restored to us After many a day. That old metaphor, Drawn from rice farming on the River’s flooded shore, Helps us to believe That it’s no great . . .Read the whole article at The Newyorker

I remember he was bent down Like a whirlpool I was yelling at him He looked scared and backed away Another time, I squinted my eyes to see And he said I looked ugly The funny part was when My sister asked me where he went to And I just . . .Read the whole article at The [...]