Well John’s response keenly reveals he soaked up the message of your “Hunger’s Needle.”. I gasped out loud reading what John wrote in response, the epitome of your very first two lines. My mother and brother, both having had careers in teaching High School English, would have gasps more audible than mine! An auditorium of unthreaded needles, why?. Perhaps part of the ‘nothing matters’ era. I am sad. Mom taught ‘Brave New World,’ ‘Feirenheight 451’ ‘Atlas Shrugged,’ back when kids were still listening. Back when respect was still occupying one of those student desks, no earbuds, no lunch sacks, no cell phones. Back to your entry — “but the ears are tuned to the discord of witlessneses,” line — I cherish the threaded needle of that line. It tethers itself to the AI, antiquity of archetecture pasted over the US flag and high rises image, musicians of yore performing for contemporary passersby, not clustered in stillness, not listening. Whenever I attend a festival where anyone is playing an instrument or singing, I can barely tear myself away from watching and listening. My needle is threaded to the presence of people who still make music for us to enjoy. My needle is threaded to your AD page, Odin. Thank you* ~~ djl

I am six weeks into the semester teaching Freshman Comp at two different universities here in Miami, so I have a good spread of young 18 year old students fresh from high school. There hold on basic knowledge one would come to expect is next to nill. On the first day, I asked each class what composition meant and they couldn't tell me. They all suffer from attention Deficit Disorder and if they do listen, they don't hear or process. When I do give verbal guidance to individuals, they ask me to write it down so that they can remember. Some students wear sound-blocking earphones, otherwise I noted were talking as if to themselves, only to realize that they were zooming or face-timing right there under my nose. The other day, I explain what a thesis statement was, since they would have to formulate one to write the argument essay. Next class, when I asked what it meant, no one could tell me. They just looked at me blankly. Meanwhile, students think nothing of coming to class with bags full of take-away Dunkin Donuts egg sandwich quoissants and Starbucks Creme caramel frappes, with bags and litter all over the place. I told students I thought this was odd and suggested I would ask management what the protocol was, telling them that when I was in school, I couldn't chew gum in class, much less come in with a lunch spread. Sorry for my rant, but your poem somehow inspired it.