May’s poem

My precious History of Art by H. W. Janson remained intact for one month. Samuel climbed the bookcase yesterday and hauled it down, ripping off its cover.

Our superglues have all dried out.

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Our household, minus kitties, went to the zoo with Karin’s mom, who is making the most of her grandparental season-pass (she went again the next day). In the African section, the wild dogs were in fine form, running laps, in contrast to our by-then-unenthused children. Lions, gators, snakes, and sloths practiced immobility. Kangaroos stirred more than usual.

My favorites are the huge animals: the bison, the rhino, the giraffes. The latter, in zoos, often languish down in some ditch, on the same eye-level as their observers; but at our zoo, one can walk up to their feet and let oneself be towered over.


This month’s poem, in honor of Mother Karin’s Day and our wedding anniversary (May 21), is “Pharaoh Story”; the lyrics are by Tim Rice. I’ve come, reluctantly, during our marriage, to like it.

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Pharoah, he was a powerful man
With the ancient world in the palm of his hand
To all intents and purposes he
Was Egypt with a capital “E”
Whatever he did, he was showered with praise
If he cracked a joke, then you chortled for days
No one had rights or a vote but the king
In fact you might say he was fairly right-wing

When Pharoah’s around
Then you get down on the ground
If you ever find yourself near Rameses
Get down on your knees

Down at the other end of the scale
Joseph is still doing time in jail
For even though he’s in with the guards
A lifetime in prison seems quite on the cards
But if my analyis of the position is right
At the end of the tunnel is a glimmer of light
For all of a sudden indescribable things
Have shattered the sleep of both peasants and kings

Strange as it seems
There’s been a run of crazy dreams
And a man who can interpret could go far
Could become a star

Strange as it seems
There’s been a run of crazy dreams
And a man who can interpret could go far
Could become a star!
Could be a star!
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