St Valentine was Clubbed to Death for Healing a Blind Girl.

Dear D,D,& Dialecticians and
Colleagues Across the Curriculum,

“What was it like in the olden
days, Sam?” my dialecticians
ask, dreaming of Hegel and
his diachronic oppositions
“Were we always dedicated
to the Triad plus 2? “

NOSTALGIA
Literally: “agony for the home”
Paradigm Lost.



Olden days with a bar on campus
and a shared buzz generated every
fall & spring festival: staff, faculty,
students, administration & campus
brats hippity-hopping out the doors,
conga-kicking around Glad, coeds
pausing to hurl into in the holly,
gracefully pulling back their long
shiny hair while cross-cultural
trombones & trumpets, banjos,
kazoos & snare-drums hammered
a line of hippie forbears precursor
to 2^nd & 3^rd generations of SUV
Trustafarians & our sustainable
collective conscience: boom lay
boom lay boom lay
boom..

No one wore bicycle helmets in
those days, nor carried water
bottles or hoisted back packs
like camels. Smoking was a
1940’s movieland set: part of
a cultural body language &
gesture, snapping Zippos
galore;

Bubbas sold T-shirts to support
their habit; jogging was not yet
addictive, vegans hadn’t been
created nor was sexual assault
considered a campus wide
phenomena with its own infra-
structure. Citizen’s Band radios
& 8-track players cut the edge
of media savvy in such as
Dean Kahl’s blue
60's Camaro.

We were happy hypocrites saying
one thing and doing other stuff,
who’s got a problem with that?
Small but very large, we
contained multitudes nestled
in our tiny blue ridge. Contra-
dictions made good sense, and
paradox: but of course.

xxxooo, Presbyter