More big, slow snowflake days. Frolicking dog-era leaping & lopsided running scooping mouthfuls of fluffy snow days. Bracing cold but not bone-chilling wait for school-bus windy whitecap blue-ocean ochre-grass in light snowfall sunbeam days. Simmering cinnamon singing cold moon in the soon-dusk days. Fasting & feasting remembering & giving days. Glowing string of gold-light holding hills older than bones around the bay in milky-way night days. Close-knit cozy hot-chocolate & blankets sleeping tight & dreaming of tomorrow & tomorrow days.

Photographs Don't Show That Anymore

[F]Sunlight was more [Fmaj7]golden in the [Bb]Eighties; The [C7]film & photo[C]graphs, they do not [Am7]lie.[F] [A7]Things, they were more [Dbdim]orange, &[A7] kinda [D]grainy— & we [A7]rode our bikes out [A9]late until [C]The moon rose over [C7]Shanty Hill, [F]Streetlamps filled the [Fmaj7]night with much more [Bb]mystery. We [C7]drank in parks and [C]smoked inside the [Am7]bar.[F] Oh, I'm [A7]livin' that Late [Dbdim]nineteen-hun[A7]dreds his[D]tory, When [A7]phones hung on our [A9]walls from cords We [C]tied in knots [C7]when we got bored. [F]But kids these days, they [Fmaj7]don't know how to [Bb]do that. I [C7]can't say I re[C]member how my[Am7]self.[F] [A7]Sunlight was more [Dbdim]gol[A7]den—but [D]you knew that. I [A7]let the tires [A9]run out of air, I [C]put my dreams up [C7]on the shelf. [F]But somewhere, [Dm]deep down, I've still got it [F]in [Am]me: The [F]willow tree; the [A]streetlamp; and [Dm]the dark. [F]And somewhere out there, [A7]always [Dm]one more [Bb]mystery. The [A7]Berlin Wall was [Dbdim]not so [A7]far As [C]midnight on the [C7]VCR. [F]And not all of our [Fmaj7]cars came with a [Bb]seatbelt. Yea, [C7]we rolled down the [C]windows with a [Am7]crank.[F] [A7]Rewound our [Dbdim]cassette tapes[A7] with [D]a pencil. [A7]Dialed random [A9]numbers, Got [C]the cops called on a [C7]prank. [F]And kids these days, I [Fmaj7]don't know how they [Bb]do it. It's [C7]not that I'm too [C]old to learn new [Am7]tricks.[F] And [A7]if this is the [Dbdim]Future, I'm [A7]in[D]to it— But [A7]every now and [Dbdim]then I need [A7]my [A7]Late 1900s fix.[Dm] [F]‘Cause when I was a [Dm]boy, my momma [F]told [Am]me, As she [F]brushed a lock of [A]hair from out my [Dm]face: [F]The years fly by, but [A7]only these [Dm]moments [Bb]hold me. Then she [A7]tucked me into [Dbdim]bed [C]As she sang Chantilly [C7]Lace. & she said, [F]Sunlight in the [Fmaj7]Sixties [F]was more [Bb]golden When we [C7]thought those Cuban [C]Missiles'r gonna [Am7]fly.[F] [F]When you get the chance [A]to make your memories, [Bb]hold em; When [A7]Paul McCartney beamed on [Dbdim]Channel 3, [C]We screamed until we [C7]died. [F]Yea, sunlight in the [Fmaj7]Sixties [F]was more [Bb]golden, [A7]But the future always [Dbdim]finds you [A7]far too [Dm]soon. Your [F]momma’s much too [A7]young to feel this [Dm]old, and[Bb] [A7]I can’t believe [Dbdim]we argued over [C]Elvis & Pat [C7]Boone! 'Cause [F]we're all much too [Dm]young to feel this [F]old, and[Am] [F]Nothing is the [A]way it was [Dm]before, [F]And somewhere out there, [A7]sunlight still [Dm]is golden[Bb] [A7]But the photographs… They don't show that any[Dm]more.[F][Bb][A7][Dm] (They’re bad at! bad at! they scatter the glamour the gloom!) No, they don’t show that anymore. (They’re bad at! bad at! that data! the digital boom!) They don’t show that anymore! (They’re bad at! bad at! that glittery goldeny hue!) They don’t show that anymore.

You see the preamble is part of the song,

& songwriting's easy. You just imagine what John Prine would say in this situation, throw some "Yeah babies" in there as needed to fit the scansion, & Steve Goodman's your uncle. Well, on the night of the hunter's moon I was an ant begging a cloud to stop the ocean-swelling space rock frying my brain like a very dim magnifying glass. & on my shoulder were two angels, & they spoke to one another but not to me, because... well, I wouldn't listen. You don't hate yourself, they said. You hate that the world is unfair, & that things are broken that can't be repaired, & bad things happen that cannot be stopped—bad things that aren't yours or anyone's fault. You hate that the way you do anything is the way you do everything; you hate that it's never too late to change, & still—you haven't. & still, you sing. The preamble is part of the song. & on my back there were two giants, & I was crushed by their belief in me, for the angels spoke of wings, but only a friend's hand on my shoulder turned my face from the abyss. Still, I sing. Who am I without mouth or ears? Plagiarist of music no one hears. Still, the angels speak to one another, but... not to me.

We shook the government tree until money fell out:

& a railway appeared; & your rent was $300 cheaper, & there was no black mold. & I said, do you say every thought that comes into your head? which was very suggestive at the time. & everyone has an opinion, sure, but they don't have to— I borrow most of mine: are they a Dom, or are they Just A Predator? a fun guessing game for the whole family! & consent is not a hard concept to grasp, one must assume they violate for fun. But everyone has an opinion. & in the street, people are dying of one thing after another, & you'd like to think they brought this on themselves: Unlimited Space Racing! We gotta get Whitey back on the Moon. We shook the government tree until martyrs fell out. We'll finish the Temple of Freedom eventually. & a bridge collapsed; & you were renovicted; & there was no black mold.

EVERY CHOICE IS LAVA EXCEPT THE ONE WITH THE MOST VOTES

Body positivity says, "All bodies are beautiful." Body neutrality asks, "Why are you nicer to the ones you find attractive?" Body positivity says, "Real women have curves." Body neutrality admits, "It's true that women are not composed of flat polygons, but when you share this next to a picture of Jessica Rabbit, that kind of defeats your point." Body positivity says, "But I'm a chubby-chaser!" Body neutrality explains, "OK, but 'there there, I'd fuck you' is not the soothing panacea you think it is."

Body positivity says, "Fat is healthy!" Body neutrality cries, "I just want a doctor to listen to me for once, and concede that I'm an expert on my own existence!"

Body positivity says, "I want this for you." Body neutrality says, "I am owed this human right for all my life."

HOW MANY CHARACTERS WILL FIT BEFORE THE LINE BREAKS?

MY CHOICES WERE LARGELY AESTHETIC, BUT THE UNIVERSE ACKNOWLEDGED THAT A CHOICE WAS MADE:

I'LL TAKE MY IODINE. BUILD A POWER PLANT IN MY BACKYARD.