Change the Channel.

A light-hearted comedy removes us from the camp of war, the circle of covered wagons.  The Geneva Convention reminds us that humanity still shines from between the cracks of darkness, as it always has, as it always will.

Whether it spells "Haz6", "HazG" or a hastily-contrived "Hagz", this puppy dances with all the condensed Brylcreem of a '57 Chev Impala.  Although its "spikyness" is typical of Toronto's neuronal wastelands, this one simply shines in the fabric of the night.  Sheds lite on passers-by, so they can find the right vein for the right needle.

Gimme Shelter.

Another Naked Toothbrush in a Mouth of Dentures.  We connect.  We give.  We Take.  We litter each other's back-yards with our soils and our rake.

Nothing in the garden but a cucumber and a wrench. Your veggies are sour, your bread makes a stench. It's a busy day, with many words shared and nothing to say. Who's louder, who's longer, who's Blue and who's Gay.

That is that for now.  I entertain the troops with a small pot-pourri of Gentle Nibbles from the Turnip Gallery of Tronto's Queens Lane.  Angry men, Benign women and the usual fruit loops in-between.

Glasnost for now.

The Love Song.

- Elton John

Do You Know What I Mean?