“I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. Let visitors trip. And the highest enjoyment of timelessness―in a landscape selected at random―is when I stand among rare butterflies and their food plants.- nabokov
Monday, August 21, 2023
Sunday, August 20, 2023
Eletelephony
Eletelephony
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone—(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)
Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)— Laura Elizabeth Richard
Thursday, August 17, 2023
The Little Things
The Little Things
it’s the little things
i wanna do with you.
i wanna run and bathe
in the rain with you.
i wanna stay up all night
with you.
i wanna cook nutritious meals
for you.
it’s the little things
i wanna do for you.
i wanna hand-picked
roses for you.
i wanna play the fool
for you.
i wanna be there for you.
i wanna do all these little things
just for you.
Tuesday, August 15, 2023
The Chess Player by Howard Altmann
👻The Chess Player
They’ve left. They’ve all left.
The pigeon feeders have left.
The old men on the benches have left.
The white-gloved ladies with the Great Danes have left.
The lovers who thought about coming have left.
The man in the three-piece suit has left.
The man who was a three-piece band has left.
The man on the milkcrate with the bible has left.
Even the birds have left.
Now the trees are thinking about leaving too.
And the grass is trying to turn itself in.
Of course the buses no longer pass.
And the children no longer ask.
The air wants to go and is in discussions.
The clouds are trying to steer clear.
The sky is reaching for its hands.
Even the moon sees what’s going on.
But the stars remain in the dark.
As does the chess player.
Who sits with all his pieces
In position.
Dada poem
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