at the meeting
i slurp my coffee
and click my pen.

i turn her hair colors
and spin wildflowers
from the carpet.

take hardwood and
turn it to clay that
i sculpt into a sweater.

it’s cold and it’s heavy,
my gift to the boss.

so when i fold this paper
into an elevator
he stays here stuck to the ground…

and we go up up and away.

-h

Updating...

i encourage everyone who is capable of voting this year to check out barack obama… even if you think you know him, if only from the soundbites on television[which are often very misleading], please take one more good honest look at him. check out his website at barackobama.com and find out more about his campaign.

your vote is your vote – it shouldn’t have anything to do with hype from one side or the other – but please, take another look.

-stephen h

my snapple tea bottle cap is telling me that during the middle ages, chicken noodle soup was widely considered to be an aphrodisiac.

this didn’t make any sense to me, unless you consider their public health probably wasn’t as good back then. so, hypothetically, if i had a lot of sick women about, i could probably make them a lot fonder of me by providing them with some chicken noodle soup to lessen their suffering.

then i started thinking… what if this was still a myth in the modern world? how would this affect popular culture?

i’m sure love songs would be a lot soupier. rap songs in particular would be more interesting, hearing gangstas rap about attracting “bitches” with their exclusive soup recipe.

movies would be rated on how steamy their soup scenes are. elaine on seinfeld would rate guys on how “soup-worthy” they are. in the low-brow sophomoric humor flicks, guys would joke about sick women as being “aching for it”. women’s romance novels would describe soup-making sessions in hot details, like “as his strong hands stirred the soup, she couldn’t help but notice – his soup had more noodles than she had ever seen in a soup before…”

and so on.

-h

here’s a short story i originally wrote back in february… -aytch