Second Rollback Post!

http://rollback.typepad.com/campaign/2009/12/prescription-drug-companies-must-warn-consumers-of-drug-side-effects.html

Fine Print be Da*ned

I am a guest blogger on the rollback blog of the National Campaign to Restore Civil Rights. The Campaign works to ensure that the courts protect and preserve justice, fairness, and opportunity for everyone. It focuses on public education and outreach, finding ways to get the message out about the impact of court rulings on our communities, our opportunities and our rights.

My first post is here:

http://rollback.typepad.com/campaign/2009/11/despite-the-fine-print-the-courts-in-washington-state-are-open.html

Fine Print be Da*ned

http://rollback.typepad.com/campaign/2009/11/despite-the-fine-print-the-courts-in-washington-state-are-open.html

Men in Pairs

1. Coffee and tea
A pair of red-faced Dutchmen standing behind a plywood table on Governor's Island. They are both blonde and sunburned and in their 40s. The one on the right has stuffed his ample biceps into T shirt sleeves; the one on the left cut the sleeves off and lets the muscle bulge freely. Next to them on the plywood is a handlettered sign - "COFFEE & TEA."

2. High holidays
Two Hassidic men standing in front of a sparkly orange super chromed out Impala. They are decked out in their High Holiday finery. One is tall and dark; he is wearing a flat fur hat that bobs precariously when he shakes his head approvingly at the car. His shawl is studded like a punk rock belt from St. Mark's Street. The other one is short and pasty and doesn't have a hat - just a little kippa covering the top of his head and perfectly arranged curls framing his face. Both have their arms crossed over their chests.

3. In the weeds
Two beautiful white-haired men emerge from a wild weedy patch between two Brooklyn "back houses," each wheeling a bicycle they have plucked from the morning glories and wild weeds threatening to suffocate a peach tree. Both bicycles have purple flowers jammed into their spokes. Both men are wearing jackets with peeling letters that spell out "US Navy Veteran" on the back.

TO BE OF USE

To be of use
by Marge Piercy

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who stand in the line and haul in their places,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

Haywood Burns' favorite poem.