August 25, 2006
DOUBLE-CLICK
You should (might?)
be able to click
on the little triangle
at the end of the play bar
and get a pull down list of options
Otherwise click
double-click
then call some kid
you know...
Perry Gladstone, 2006
August 12, 2006
Saturday Morning Chestnuts
My Dad used to have one of the artist's studios on Markham street across from Honest Ed's. It was one room stuffed with boxes of collected junk, a small bed, a tiny black and white TV perched on a broken stool that only got two channels and the smell of stale coffee mixed with moldy books. The door was fireproof steel and it would make a buckling sound as you pushed your way in against the piled up boxes.
It was a secret place and I loved it. The second floor entrance was unmarked and every step of the rusty steel fire escape between the buildings made its own sound. On the landing, wired to the railing, a motley crew of unruly mailboxes, each in their own state of misery, indicated the current status of the building’s mysterious tenants.
The washroom was down the hall and I was always afraid to walk the dark, creaky passage alone. The only respite was the single bare bulb in the toilet. Once inside I’d lock the steel door and listen to the sounds of disquieted tenants above and below whom, like Dad, had no where else to go.
Safely back on the bed we’d stay up late to watch Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and sip powdered hot chocolate from well-used Styrofoam cups, the promise of roasted chestnuts and a bright Saturday morning only hours away.
Perry
February 11, 2006
Eleanor's Eyes
The bird had no idea. Perched on the end of a thin branch all it knew, and cared, was that She was watching from the ledge above, ready to strike in an instant. The tension was palpable though not for the passer by whom would only see a little sparrow sitting perfectly still on a cold, crisp February dawn, and whom at most would perhaps wonder how the little bird kept from freezing solid.
The passer by was a woman named Eleanor. Late for work, Eleanor did not see Her, poised above, with the intent of death. In fact Eleanor would have missed the entire sequence of events that took place upon the little sparrow’s panicked flight if it were not for the fact that Mrs. Mellonby’s washing had frozen stiff over night.
She leapt. The bird sprang. The branch sprung. An icicle fell as Eleanor looked up at Mrs. Mellonby’s oddly distorted frozen sheets.
Dr. Philpot at the hospital said Eleanor was lucky the icicle was so small. If it had been bigger she could have suffered far worse. Dr. Philpot was proud of his collection of glass eyes and had chosen an almost perfect match for Eleanor. Except for the fact that it didn’t move like her other eye, you couldn’t tell it was not her own.
Eleanor left the hospital a few days later. At the crosswalk her new glass eye remained still even though her head turned both ways. Mrs. Mellonby’s sheets were still frozen on the line but Eleanor did not look at them. Instead Eleanor looked up past the sheets to the ledge.
That afternoon Eleanor returned to the building where Mrs. Mellonby lived. She had a large cardboard box with a hole cut in it and a can of tuna. It was for Her.
After the box was set up Eleanor went to the toy store. She asked the clerk for a bag of marbles. There were many colours and Eleanor picked one that matched her new glass eye. “Don’t you want them all?”, the clerk asked Eleanor. “No thank you”, Eleanor said. “This one is perfect”.
Then Eleanor went back to Mrs. Mellonby’s building to collect her box. Just as Eleanor had planned She was inside.
Dr. Philpot came to Eleanor’s Christmas party. On the door there was a welcome sign and a reminder to please not let the cat out. Dr. Philpot was quite proud of his work and at the punch bowl he remarked to several people how well the new eye looked. One of the guests congratulated Dr. Philpot and asked if he too could have his pet’s eyes fixed to match his own.
February 01, 2006
Eye of Healthy Man
The world comes to a grinding halt
as missiles speed to temple dome
a fate awaiting prepared for you
by brands you wore, your choice of brew
...Iran
As Trees uproot and bridges fall
I patiently await your call
Our time has come the end is near
for us to shed societal fears
When we look back upon this day
I know the words that we will say
We had our fun, it was a blast
but none of it was made to last
So take my hand and walk away
its not to late to set things straight
a reality made to order
can be sent back across the border
...reality tv sucks
I know you know that we know too
feelings not derived from truth
Only serve to bring about
trivialities with little clout
Its easy once you know how
momentum sprays a frothing bow
Choose to see connections 'tween
the things we buy and air we breathe
...true cost
An apple trucked across the land
is not the eye of healthy man
The car that drives us, stars we lauded
are nothing more than corporate fodder.