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	<title>Analog Nation &#187; verse</title>
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		<title>The Condemned</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2009/03/12/condemned/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2009/03/12/condemned/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2009 01:58:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[peeves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://analog-nation.com/?p=642</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;Had To Be Done, People.&#8221; They gathered in the town square at noon. The sun, towering at its apex, offered no shade. Dust that had baked in the heat for years crunched under their footsteps, as a bone-dry wind threw swirls of it onto their shoes. All eye contact was accidental, and swiftly averted. No one wanted to admit to each other why they had come, because to do so would mean admitting it to themselves. And they wanted to postpone that particular truth as long as possible. Moments played out among the crowd, unseen in plain sight. Here, a woman dabbed at her brow with a handkerchief given by her late fianc&#233;. There, a man sipped courage from a worn, smudged flask, an act he no longer bothered to hide. When the last of them reached the square, stillness fell, as if they would be allowed to abandon their task and go home, if only they remained perfectly silent. Overhead, vultures started to become curious. The mayor stood on an upturned crate. &#8220;Come on, people. Let&#8217;s get this over with.&#8221; He ushered them past the bench beside him, where they took turns choosing from the stack of [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Anguish</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2009/02/22/anguish/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2009/02/22/anguish/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 23 Feb 2009 04:45:23 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[gastronomy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[peeves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://analog-nation.com/?p=562</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;A Thousand Times, Why?&#8221; Why is it That we can send explorers to a moon Chart the depths of an ocean Peer into the core of an atom Cure children of a disease That would have ravaged whole cities As recently as a generation ago Craft a work of art That defies the senses And speaks directly to the soul Solve for a variable That hides among the riddles Of an equation as long as a phone book And invent a brand new tool To better accomplish a task That has been honed for centuries But we cannot For the life of us Make an oatmeal cookie That does not have goddamn raisins in it?]]></description>
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		<title>The Lever</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2009/01/13/chair/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2009/01/13/chair/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 14 Jan 2009 00:32:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://analog-nation.com/?p=444</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;You Would Be Surprised How Much Difference It Makes&#8221; Aeron, O Aeron You are the Excalibur of chairs Or so they say So then why will you not stop Rocking all the way back So that everything I do Is at a forty-five degree angle? Well. I found it. I finally found The lever That commands you To knock that shit off. And the Sun and Moon became one And the sky swallowed the darkness And bluebirds alighted upon my shoulders And started to belt out &#8220;Evenflow&#8221; As if tomorrow were never coming. My back felt As if I had just returned to Earth After a lifetime in outer space. Plus, the girl who sits in the cubicle across from me Probably thinks that I grew a foot and half Since Monday.]]></description>
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		<title>A Missive to Father Christmas</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/12/15/missive/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/12/15/missive/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 15 Dec 2008 04:07:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[holidays]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://analog-nation.com/?p=346</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;No Seriously, I&#8217;ll Burn Their House Down&#8221; Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas Is for you to make them stop This year was supposed to be different &#8220;Surely,&#8221; muttered I, &#8220;they wouldn&#8217;t dare&#8221; Not with the economy doing keg-stands Right? And yet Each time I turn on my beleaguered television There they are More commercials Where happy, good-looking people Give each other brand new cars Festooned with big red bows Has anyone Ever actually Done that? Ever? Who are these people? Oil tycoons? Robber barons? Bob Barker? Listen, Santa All I am saying is this: Should I awake on Christmas morn To discover my neighbors All agog Over a car With an oversize novelty ribbon My vengeance upon them Shall be swift and devastating And it will be your fault. Give Mrs. Claus A hug for me.]]></description>
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		<title>Hairdresser on Fire</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/10/19/hairdresser-on-fire/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/10/19/hairdresser-on-fire/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 20 Oct 2008 01:08:32 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/?p=121</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;An Omen To Be Ignored At Your Own Peril&#8221; A sign An omen A portent A way to know Upon walking into the salon Who is best suited To cut my hair That is all I ask They all wear black They all look hip/weird/European They all use &#8220;volume&#8221; as a verb And are thoroughly caffeinated A total crapshoot Which of them is skilled? Which of them takes too long? Which of them will not be offended When I zone out? Well I have seen my omen When in doubt Pick the one With the five-inch tattoo on her forearm Of scissors engulfed in flame Because, I mean come on, holy shit That&#8217;s who you want cutting your freaking hair Right?]]></description>
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		<title>Symphony of Anguish</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/09/01/toe-vs-mac/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/09/01/toe-vs-mac/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:00:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[peeves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/?p=108</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;An Open Letter to Apple Inc., 1 Infinite Loop, Cupertino CA, 95014&#8243; Listen It&#8217;s not that I don&#8217;t love this thing I do. Really. The brushed aluminum chassis sits by my desk Like an objet d&#8217;art The Quad-Core processor Makes Photoshop sit up and beg for its supper It&#8217;s probably gotten me laid But here&#8217;s the thing I tend to walk barefoot Around the apartment And when I stub my toe on the aforementioned Brushed aluminum chassis Oh my sweet holy bag full of shit does it hurt Hurt like a banshee Hurt like a storm surge A symphony of anguish Where each note is plucked upon a nociceptor In my fifth metatarsal So how about you guys work on that Okay?]]></description>
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		<title>The People Museum</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/07/09/the-people-museum/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/07/09/the-people-museum/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2008 03:00:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/?p=87</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;Where Half My Stuff Came From&#8221; IKEA! Where the only thing promised Is anything you could ever need, for the rest of your life IKEA! Where magic lurks in every corner Which is a lot, because the pathways all have fifteen right angles IKEA! Where we shuffle past fully furnished rooms Exhibits of how we already live People at a people museum IKEA! Where they possess the power To transform any dorm room Into that same dorm room, only if it were in Helsinki IKEA! Where 75% of the city learn where Red Hook is And the other 25% say &#8220;There goes Red Hook&#8221; IKEA! The only place in New York Where absolutely everyone Walks slower Than you IKEA! Where each helpful &#8220;You Are Here&#8221; sign taunts you With graphical evidence of just how little progress you&#8217;ve made IKEA! The first store on Earth Where someone has to show you How to buy things IKEA! Where the merchandise has names You wish you&#8217;d thought of When you got your dog &#8220;Here, Kl&#228;ppe!&#8221; IKEA! Where everything weighs three hundred pounds Because apparently the Swedes have learned to build furniture Out of dark matter IKEA! Where a simple, elegant chair [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Ode to the Clipboard People</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/06/01/clipboard/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/06/01/clipboard/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 02 Jun 2008 01:00:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[peeves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/?p=63</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230; or, &#8220;The Sidewalk Pick &#038; Roll&#8221; We get it You have youth, you have ideals You want to make things better You want to matter And impress girls But dude, seriously I&#8217;m just trying To get some lunch And so No offense But I am going to use The person walking in front of me As a blocker.]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Empire of Alexander</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/05/14/the-empire-of-alexander/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/05/14/the-empire-of-alexander/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 15 May 2008 03:09:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[famous names]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/?p=60</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8230;or, &#8220;This Is What I Get For Watching Historical Documentaries&#8221; Sometimes As I walk around Lower Manhattan I imagine that I am walking in the company Of Alexander Hamilton Showing him the city that he built The financial engine of the world A system that he put in motion We walk past the columns of the stock market Looming mere feet from where his house once stood Then along Rector Street Past the churchyard Where he lies buried And each time As my mind wanders I am gripped by the same inescapable truth: Sweet toad-fucking Christ I&#8217;m a dork.]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Foresight</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2008/01/28/foresight/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2008/01/28/foresight/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 29 Jan 2008 00:46:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[peeves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/2008/01/28/foresight/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Hark! Young man, venture not into that night Without a back-up plan For yea, it is indeed a great thing To live within a five minute walk From the old-school independent movie house But You are not The only genius who thought to see No Country For Old Men The weekend after the Oscars were announced And brother, it is damn cold outside. There Will Be Blood Started twenty minutes ago Atonement &#8230; ? &#8220;Meh,&#8221; whispers the wind &#8220;Let&#8217;s go home and play Super Mario Galaxy&#8221;]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://analog-nation.com/2008/01/28/foresight/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Ode to the 40ish Woman Eating Yogurt Sitting Next to Me on the Subway This Morning</title>
		<link>http://analog-nation.com/2007/12/09/ode/</link>
		<comments>http://analog-nation.com/2007/12/09/ode/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Dec 2007 03:27:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris Keating</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[verse]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[peeves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sooperdelishus.com/2007/11/23/ode-to-the-40ish-woman-eating-yogurt-sitting-next-to-me-on-the-subway-this-morning/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[… or, “I’m Probably The One With The Problem” You sat still and proper Your yogurt low-fat, plain, sensible You did not rustle the bag You did not breathe through your nose You brought your own spoon The right thing to do And only clicked your teeth on the metal Once or twice You were done by 57th Street And yet It still drove me Up the goddamn wall.]]></description>
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