One of the things I like to do is write.  My friend Mark turned me onto this in the early 80's, and while he's gone on to be a pro, I have gone on to do it for fun.  In these writings you can see into a wide variety of moods and outlooks.  One who knows my history can probably predict what period I wrote a lot of the work in.  Here's a sample, the rest is coming as soon as I figure out how to design the rest of the page.

Clothes Minded

I can't figure the state which is worse; I'm torn.

Is it to be washed, dried, ironed, or worn,

or left in the closet to hang with the rest,

or lay clumped in the hamper -- yes, that I detest.

So when my good owner pulls me out from the pile

and pours water and soap so I'd wash for awhile,

I thank him quite well 'til I go in the dryer

and bleed moisture and sweat from the heat of a fire.

I lay down all wrinkled but rested, at peace,

believing the jumbling and torching has ceased.

But then comes the metal to pierce through my flesh --

my tag says cool iron, but it's hot nonetheless.

And onto a hanger to keep my skin straight,

ahhh yes, a plastic one -- it's the wire ones I hate.

I'm put back in the closet to hang with my friends,

the door squeaks closed -- and another cycle ends.

... At least I am treated with kindness and care,

not like a torn dishtowel or old underwear.

In this life, anyway, the argument's moot --

but in the next life, I decided, I want to be a suit.

copyright 1996, D.W. McCall