Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,– Richard iii

Posts tagged “Business

The Colonel

Carolyn Forche, Miami Book Fair International,...

Image via Wikipedia

POEM

The Colonel

by Carolyn Forché

WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD is true. I was in his house. His wife carried
a tray of coffee and sugar. His daughter filed her nails, his son went
out for the night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the
cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on its black cord over
the house. On the television was a cop show. It was in English.
Broken bottles were embedded in the walls around the house to
scoop the kneecaps from a man’s legs or cut his hands to lace. On
the windows there were gratings like those in liquor stores. We had
dinner, rack of lamb, good wine, a gold bell was on the table for
calling the maid. The maid brought green mangoes, salt, a type of
bread. I was asked how I enjoyed the country. There was a brief
commercial in Spanish. His wife took everything away. There was
some talk then of how difficult it had become to govern. The parrot
said hello on the terrace. The colonel told it to shut up, and pushed
himself from the table. My friend said to me with his eyes: say
nothing. The colonel returned with a sack used to bring groceries
home. He spilled many human ears on the table. They were like
dried peach halves. There is no other way to say this. He took one
of them in his hands, shook it in our faces, dropped it into a water
glass. It came alive there. I am tired of fooling around he said. As
for the rights of anyone, tell your people they can go fuck them-
selves. He swept the ears to the floor with his arm and held the last
of his wine in the air. Something for your poetry, no? he said. Some
of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the
ears on the floor were pressed to the ground.
May 1978


Look like Santa, maybe your drunk

According to WrascalBC’s translation on this Vintage Ads post, the text on this Tokyo subway poster reads, “I look like Santa because you’ve had too much to drink. It’s only October. If you drink, be considerate of the other passengers.”


Manhatten Island

It was the peculiar shape of Manhattan Island, pressed in by arms of the sea on either side, and incapable of comfortable expansion, except along a narrow northward belt, that first gave the New York architects their bias for extreme vertical dimensions. Every need was lavishly supplied them–money, material, labour; only space was restricted. To begin, therefore, they built high perforce. But to do so was to discover a whole new world of architectural beauty, of exquisite ascendant lines, and long after the central congestion had been relieved by tunnels under the sea, four colossal bridges over the east river, and a dozen mono-rail cables east and west, the upward growth went on. In many ways New York and her gorgeous plutocracy repeated Venice in the magnificence of her architecture, painting, metal-work and sculpture, for example, in the grim intensity,of her political method, in her maritime and commercial ascendancy.

H.G. Wells — The War in the Air Chapter 6


Brooklyn Heights Photographer: Chris Horner (Ann Arbor, MI USA)


Title of the photograph: Brooklyn Heights
Photographer: Chris Horner (Ann Arbor, MI USA)


The Organized Executive

Stephanie Winston

SELF TASK

In general, the tasks you do yourself should reflect your skills, priorities, payoffs, and enjoyments. Challenge each item in the “self” column against these negative indicators:

  • I’ll do it myself because no one does it better.
  • Allure of past history.
  • Insignificant tasks
  • Tasks left undone over time