Friday, November 30, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
When he fell to the ground, the willow wept
not for the ants, the butterflies, not for the soft earth
but for himself, because that was simply what willows do
in fact there is nothing wrong with soft earth
and ants and butterflies are just fine
it’s a nice day out for dead trees
the sun is burning down so
it’s hard to believe anything
Friday, November 23, 2012
It’s a perfect holiday outside, and this is what I dream. I never dream for the obvious reasons, and let me tell you what I know about Dolly Parton: almost nothing. She is blond, rather curvaceous, and has a charming laugh. She wrote a song called DOWN IN DOVER that is a real bummer but she probably wrote ten million songs that weren’t. Anyone can be blond and curvaceous but the kiss I want to give isn’t for that - it’s for her graciousness, which I presume, naturally, since I do not know and I do not know her, and every bit as much I would want to give her a kiss for the aww that she would graciously sigh after being kissed for no good reason by an ordinary schmo (moi) from out of nowhere and of course for no good reason (but how could I presume such a reaction? I haven’t kissed her yet, and of course I mean on the cheek.) I suppose that there is either a scientific or mathematical principle for this; this where the science and math comes in. I believe that they both say we cannot presume results based upon untested assumptions. Kissing Dolly Parton for the presumed aww that she would emit because of her graciousness for enduring such tomfoolery on the part of someone such as myself would be scientific folly - let’s just be blunt: it would be madness. Now about math:
Mr. Gutmann, my math teacher, was long and lean and somewhat comical in appearance: his hair was dark and perfectly attended, and he wielded the chalk like Hungarian fencing champion Pal Gerevich would wield the blade in an Attaque au Fer: deftly, beautifully. The gesture and ensuing mark would designate that there was one part of an object which stood here, another which stood there: a line to indicate the separation.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
The heavens don’t stay in the same place.
The heavens can make darkness more than darkness.
The heavens can make the earth dark and the sky dark and so there.
Here they are hiding from everyone but happy.
People from Troy are tuckered out by joy.
The moon says nothing, so why do you assume?
Why do you ever assume friendly?
The horse is filled with those who would ride smaller horses.
Not miniature horses, mind you.
Remember: we are talking about a large scale horse, moon size.
Furtive are the free until like Troy they drop from joy.
Innumerable unpronounceable princes contort.
Entering into the city ...
Imagine a town that drowns in it’s own wine...
Welcome, everyone. Welcome.
Do what you must do.