Mount Rushmore
a critique.
Or as I like to call it Mount Rush-no-more.
Contents: Four dead presidents lording over the common folk.
An unwelcome reason to ignore Crazy Horse.
Boasts a claim of no one dying during construction. That is, if you don't care about long-lasting lung damage.
Not even that big.
Recommendation, skip.
About the Creator
Rachael MacDonald
Avid Reader, Sometimes Poet, Occasional Writer, and searcher of truths often lost in the breaths between candy-coated lies.
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When We Were Very Young
In another box set that my parents got me when I was younger contained four books by A.A. Milne. 'When We Were Very Young' is a collection of poems that Milne wrote for his son Christopher Robin. This is a book that is full of references to Mr. Edward Bear, but a lot of the poems give some various descriptions of life of a very young child and where, when, how and why they do what they do. The illustrations are quite cute for you can see what Christopher Robin is and may be thinking. Also, Pooh Bear does make his self-known at various points. I have read these verses many, many times over the years and each time make me feel good about myself.
By Mark Graham24 days ago in Critique
making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar3 days ago in Feast
Comments (3)
Thank you, duly noted 😁 *crosses it off my list off destinations*
I like your quite scathing but compelling critique of a landmark most would consider visiting! Well done, also you have a new subscriber!
Lol, that was hilarious! Awesome work!