November 18

 

Perfectly balancing Heaven and Earth
Do not cave in
Endless riches, the sound of the sea
A whole gamut of wonderful things
Sleep well

November 17

 

I had been writing down the days but had lost faith.
And although the days had once been graced, grace
No longer pertained. Be that as it may, being irredeemably
Young at heart, I continued, rather against my will.

November 16

 

Bouncy castle! Shaky citadel! Vibrating mansion!
Thoughtful shopping mall. Considerate semi-detached residence.
(To be continued. Or not.)

November 15

 

from SOME OF HOW I BECAME WHAT I AM

My forms of expression are occasionally convoluted
And perhaps “precious” in the eyes of some ears
But I cannot shake off the angel dust that clings to me
Ever since I tumbled into a very large tank labelled
“Angel Dust” – I think I must be naturally attractive.
I was on a day trip to Paradise Toys –
                         second prize in the church raffle.

November 14

 

from SOME OF HOW I BECAME WHAT I AM

And with a not inconsequential understanding of human waste. . .

November 13

 

from SOME OF HOW I BECAME WHAT I AM

One day, perhaps it was a Tuesday, I awoke in soiled pyjamas
And knew words always fall short of feelings. Before breakfast
I had composed a poem on “The Breasts of Sophie”, my first epic
And not by any means my last. I was flexing my muscles.

November 12

 

In those days I had not even sixpence to rub together with the outer of my skull. To suck a pebble was nourishment, or to kiss the scent of a passing serving gal. But look at me now: apprenticed to a drain digger and composing poems overflowing with serious intent.

November 11

 

“I would like to draw your attention to a curious crisis which I underwent when I was nineteen, while I was writing La Doublure. For several months I experienced an intense sensation of universal glory.”

                 – Raymond Roussel, from “How I Wrote Certain of My Books”

November 10

 

BIPPETY AND BOPPETY DISCUSS LONELINESS

— I am alone and I am somewhat tired of being alone. Perhaps I should ship in a glove puppet. They could have the spare room.
— Companionship is key if one is tired of being alone and wishes to have a sharer with whom to share.
— But I am not sure about sharing. I am a very private person.
— At least one part of me is confused.
— I do not enjoy sharing bathrooms or kitchens, or personal emotional states.
— A glove puppet would be an ideal solution in the circumstances.
— But surely he or she would always be demanding I give them a hand with whatever they were up to.
— I had not considered that. Let me think about it. Can I get back to you next year? I have an appointment somewhere.
— Certainly. I have enough medication to see me through until February.

November 9

 

from THE TALISMAN OF DARKNESS COVE

“Look what I’ve found!” said Bunty excitedly.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a talisman,” said Arthur.
“You are always finding things, “ said Mrs. Baxter. “Why, it was only last week that you found that corpse washed up on the beach, wasn’t it? Would you like some orange squash?”
“Oh, yes please,” said Bunty and Arthur in almost unison. And then,
“Arthur,” said Bunty, inquisitively, “what is a talisman?”
“A talisman is an object that some people think holds magical properties, and gives power etc. to the person who possesses it,” said Arthur. “But it might also just be a cute knick-knack. It depends rather upon one’s point of view.”