Michael Divine

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How to be the Infinite Blue Sky

Sitting in a cafe. The blue sky supports my sense of endless being. So does the americano. Then I read the news, my emails... and slowly... slowly the great and infinite sense of personal power is stripped away. Chiseled and chipped... war.. famine... my rights are usurped by fear mongers. The country I live in is being sold off left and right to religious zealots, the rights that many died for are being nixed in the name of freedom are all rolling over in their graves moaning and groaning and casting curses towards those who deem themselves the rulers of the free world. What irony!

Then I look at the bills piling up, debts, etc...

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Fall in Los Angeles

Some say there is no Autumn in Los Angeles. This may or may not be true. Techinically there is a "fall" everywhere. There are those of us who come from the Northeastern U.S. and claim to have seen THE FALL. The big hurrah of fireworks trees in orange and red and yellow and purple and gold and green. The carpets of color across hills or mountainsides or neighborhood streets. Remembering the kicking along of the crackling maple leaves underneath my feet as I walked home in fourth grade, fifth grade, whenever it suited me to shuffle along- even the forty year old buiness man likes to kick along in the leaves. The crispness in the air and the freshness returning to the cheeks as the last dregs of summer slip away...

Then, years after the fourth grade, I find myself here in Los Angeles, willingly of course, living in a sweet little pad a few blocks from the beach where a heavy blanket of clouds covers the sky for the past few days and maybe, just maybe, somewhere a tinge of color tints a leaf.

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