OK, I admit it. I

OK, I admit it. I can't handle Tom Cruise's truth. Or Britney & Kevin's for that matter. Anyone want my television? It's back to good old-fashioned book-readin' for me.

Here's to the good kind of crazy:

ODE TO THINGS (oda a las cosa)
by Pablo Neruda

I HAVE A CRAZY
Crazy love of things.
I like pliars,
and scissors.
I love
cups
rings
and bowls -
not to speak, of course,
of hats.
I love
all things,
not just
the grandest,
also
the infinite
ly
small-
thimbles,
spurs,
plates,
and flower vases.

Oh yes.

And a few words from e.e. cummings:

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you're hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you're flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

I hate you