The Dancing Sausage Web Journal

Last week was Earth Day. The school had a dance. This week, two scrappy evergreen bushes were uprooted from the asphalt schoolyard and put out at the curb with the garbage. Busy little fingers had left them all but bare. Now there is only one evergreen left. * * * * Everyone’s doing a dance […]

While I was away in Seattle, my birds died. Still I sometimes catch myself inadvertently looking to the cage.

I tend to think of myself as being one piece. If I must be a number, I would like to be an integer. Whole. On the ultrasound table, I thought I should re-figure myself.

“Are you still our teacher?” they kept asking me, sizing up how much it would take to drive me away. They know they can do it. I’ll be in California in two weeks. Suddenly I felt very very out of place.

There is an industry out there which is training people to run workshops like this. A folder full of xeroxed truisms and a few hours spent falling into each others’ arms to demonstrate trust is its prescription for everything from strained labor relations to troubled youth.