I am writing today to announce the closure of the New Mexico Independent. After three and a half years of operation in New Mexico, the board of the American Independent News Network, has decided to shift publication of its news…
While environmental activists played their part yesterday during demonstrations at the capitol building, going so far as to dress up as solar panels and to sing the tune of “You Are My Sunshine,” their counterparts, the anti-cap-and-trade contingency who has…
Roughly one quarter of University of New Mexico students are unimpressed with the state’s flagship public school, according to a survey that questioned college students about their higher education experiences.
Perhaps the most poetic definition of campaign politics was once offered up by former New Mexico Gov. Dave Cargo: “We see a lot of lightning, we hear a lot of thunder, but we feel very little rain.”
It’s time to apply some poetry to the presidential race.
In her Sunday column for The New York Times, Maureen Dowd dissed vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin’s doggone-it, shout-out, speaking-in-tongues speaking style. Though she’s no Tina Fey, Dowd struck gold in referring to Palin’s tortured syntax as “homespun haikus.”
Gets you thinking 5-7-5, doesn’t it? Like:
Look West, I can do
From my porch and behold — Oh!
Putin rears his head.
Or:
Choose life, my hope is
For the raped, young or busy
Todd, diapers can change.
Or even:
Straight-talkin’ debate
Without, you know, that old guy
I’m maverick and hot.
Slate took Gov. Palin’s exact words and turned them into free-form poetry with a certain alarming undertone.
Your turn. Offer up a Palin haiku. Or Obama, Biden or McCain. (Although, you’ve got to admit, rhyming “Palin” or “lipstick” makes one’s limerick urges twitch a little, too.)
