Ode to Des Plaines

We’ve got locust plagues in the form of summertime cicadas that sap the will to live with their cries before attaching themselves to shirt backs, the car seats of those foolish enough to crack the windows of their AC-less beaters. Yearly deluges from the Des Plaines River, to the point where canoe is viable transport. Wailing and gnashing of teeth in the unincorporated part of … Continue reading Ode to Des Plaines


Creepin’ ‘round inside us all’s a man called Mr. Browse. His goal, you see, is for you and me to laze about like we’re cows. He’ll wait till you’ve got work to do and say, “Hey! Look over here!” But internet, you’d better bet, it’s best to not go near. ‘Cause if you do, he’ll smile at you and think, “Hey! I’ve got a rube!” … Continue reading MR. BROWSE