The man poised to succeed Gov. Eliot Spitzer would not only become the first black governor of New York. He would also be the state’s first legally blind governor and its first disabled governor since Franklin D. Roosevelt.
He’s also a pretty darned good poem.
Let’s hope he’ll be the physician that NY needs…
The governor of New York is nailing hookers. Where’s Jeff?
Anyone who knows that is a danger to us all and should be smashed against a rock until the clan is safe.
Now that I’ve read it, I’ll have to aim my next drink at the brain cells it’s infected and hope that an alcoholic micro-lobotomy can restore my sanity.
(I poked out the capitols of the Dakotas yesterday with gin. I feel better.)
No. For real. It seems really really meaningful to me that the governor of New York is banging hookers and yet we remain in a state of jefflessness. It’s like there’s an imbalance in the force or something.
Damn, Man-dan, you’ve got tastes in poetic’s and pictures too. I see an Edward Hooper framing that poem. But enough suckn’ ass.
Heard on Albany npr station this Patterson’s got a great rep and with even Bruno liking him he’d even out this storm of idiocy that is passing. But I am afraid the current Gov. is taking his tune from his friend Alan Dershowitz who is advocating the Spitzer stay in there and use the governorship as a plea bargaining chip.
Black . . . and . . . blind?
Please tell me he can play the sax or blues guitar . . .
You’ll just have to take my word for it but yes when I pout actually it is very attractive.
Yes! At last! Can we call him Blind Lemon Paterson? Pleeeeease?
S. Weasel–that’s not my decision, but I did hear someone say that even the Lieutenant Governor was “in the dark” regarding Spitzer’s plans. Which was just . . . terribibble.
[…] I just found out (via Protein Wisdom) that the lieutenant governor of New York is a brother. And he’s blind. That is so excellent! […]
He’s also a pretty darned good poem.
Yeah, Dan, but you try explaining to a classroom full of non-English majors why this is poetry:
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
Think sort of Blue Steel commingled with a young Jack Kerouac. Like that.
Mmmmmmmmm. Glazed chicken.
Will Geraldine Ferraro say it’s his blindness or his blackness that got him the post? Or will she go far offscript and blame his fidelity?