Trapped by fear like a deer in a hunter’s sights,
    panting, chanting mantras and swallowing my fright—
While outside the world spins wide and I choke to cry
    at rope on the hope strangling my sigh.

Dawn comes none too early in pin points of light
    filtering through my soul and urging me to write—
Of the blood and the mud and the utter waste
    on sands and strands steaming with piranhas in a race.

All I was and all I am bursts forth in banshee keening
    as I mourn the past, and moan instead of screaming—
Fog outside this morning and ice upon the wind
    bring to mind a face and faith that has always been—

Dance naked in the moonlight and reach for the stars
    and paint yourself in colors to cover up the scars.

AB Christie

I'm driving around your neighborhood in my 1996 Olds Ciera when a sizzling sort of POP! sound emanates from the dashboard. The cigarette lighter has exploded. Even though I don't smoke cigars in my car, this remains unfortunate because I have been driving around with an iron lung powered up by a cord plugged into the lighter. Now it has stopped working.

Oh, this isn't my iron lung. Don't be silly. This is a small contraption, about 2 to 2 1/2 feet long. In it is a monkey, and it is gasping for air.

I rush to the nearest residential door. It is your door.

Here is my pitch: "Hi. I have a monkey here in an iron lung. I was taking it out for a drive when an electrical failure caused the iron lung to cease working. This monkey will die in a short time unless I can find a common household electrical outlet in which to gain power, enabling the monkey to survive. A good 24 hour stay will be good, but 48 hours is better."

At this point the monkey looks at you with big sad eyes. The monkey's lower lip faintly quivers. It says, in very plain English in a very high and pleading voice, "Please don't let me die."

Since the monkey saw fit to blow my cover, I am now forced to explain to you that the reason it is in an iron lung is due to the fact that I have been involved in forbidden scientific experiments, tinkering in nature's domain. In teaching monkeys how to speak English, I found that if I transplanted human vocal organs into their throats, the English language came much easier. Unfortunately, one side effect is that the monkeys would be forced to spend a brief amount of time in an iron lung until they regained their breathing pattern.

Here's a picture from the excursion:

link to more

Works In Progress New Year's Announcements:

1. If getting involved in producing local grassroots media is on your list of New Year's resolutions, you're in luck! Works In Progress still needs more help and will hold at least one more public recruitment meeting where you can meet with collective members and figure out how you can plug in.
   Join us on Sunday, January 14, 4:30–6 pm at Fertile Ground Guesthouse, 311 9th Ave SE, Olympia (in the “studio,