Archive for December, 2019

Saturday, December 21st, 2019

 

“The common people” appear to be queuing for snacks
I had not thought much about any of this
Until I had the semi-voluntary mind transplant

Friday, December 20th, 2019

 

Seeing no reason to shave, the girls shaved anyway, to keep in
step with the boys. There seemed no way I could fall in love
with any of them except under duress. But I could not find any duress,
because the overseers kept it very well-hidden.

Thursday, December 19th, 2019

 

The city was indeed beginning to turn in
its sleep. I had not thought much
about dream until this.

Wednesday, December 18th, 2019

 

I cannot promise
any laughs and I
apologise for my
language. I am so
careless, always
losing people.

Tuesday, December 17th, 2019

 

To spread myself like
honey on bread. By the time
I have cleared my nose
it’s all about a dog.

Monday, December 16th, 2019

 

One wonders what is in store for us. The confectionary department was one of the wonders of the world but word
has it that the financiers have earmarked it for the bin.

Sunday, December 15th, 2019

 

“Clasping a large bouquet of American Beauty-roses, the Poetess Diana Beira Baixa was being besieged by admirers, to ‘give them something; just something! Anything of her own.’ Wedded, and proclaiming (in vers libres) her lawful love, it was whispered she had written a paean to her husband’s ‘. . .’ beginning Thou glorious wonder! which was altogether too conjugal and intimate for recitation in society.”

                           – Ronald Firbank, fromThe Eccentricities of Cardinal Pirelli, Chapter 5

Saturday, December 14th, 2019

 

In other news
The cat is having puppies
The puppies are having pancakes
The pancakes are meeting in the kitchen to discuss what happens next

Friday, December 13th, 2019

 

. . . and you thought yesterday was dark.
But can there ever be enough light? “They can’t kill us,” said the man on the bus.

Thursday, December 12th, 2019

 

“The genius defines “inapprropriate response”:

‘Suppose my friend telephones and asks, ‘Is my wife there?’ ‘No,’ I reply, ‘they went out, your wife and my wife, wearing new hats, they are giving themselves to sailors.’ My friend is astounded at this news. ‘But it’s Election Day!’ he cries. ‘And it’s beginning to rain!’ I say’”

                     – Donald Barthelme, from The Genius