Book of the Day plans to read all of the great works of literature.
I have put it on Bloglines, so I plan to read all of the comments on the great works of literature, and leave the actual reading of said great works to people with more brain cells than I can muster.
While putting in a pool, they’ve had heavy equipment in their backyard. Apparently, this required bringing said heavy equipment through my backyard. My lilacs have vanished. My lilies are churned under. My fence is down. My yard is a mud patch.
I’m going to send Albert over there to pee on their windows! Er, Albert is a cat, not a person, which means that he might just be dumb enough to do it. Er, not that I probably couldn’t find a person to do it, if I offered a gratuity of some sort.
Two dollars for pee-for-hire.
This is a picture of a black and white dog. But that’s not what makes in animal art. No, this picture was painted by a gorilla.
Some people are too eager to dismiss similarities and equivalencies between humans and animals. I’m too eager to embrace them.
But dammit, that’s art.
(Click on the painting for a link to other pieces and an article.)
Rain Bowed
I wonder if the water etched a spotted
bull’s-eye on the pane–something to lure
the bullet birds to smash where blinds obscure
the scrabble toeholds in the screen. The knotted
cord plays on my fingers. I can pull
and burst the room with light and glitter eyes,
the beaks like shining corn, the frantic cries
and clack of wings. Do feathers bloom the dull
and piebald grass? Does blood bloom on the sill?
I’ve envied birds, the hollow flit of bone,
but not the skullthunk knocking like a stone
tossed by a lover. I could make them still,
could snap a neck as swiftly as a bean.
Instead I wait. Clean. Unseeing. Unseen.
… our homework turns its lonely eyes to you. Woo woo woo.
I’m trying to accomplish things but keep getting distracted by… ooh. A moth. Did I read this book? Why is there a salt shaker on my desk? Dalek! That’s a blister. The washer stopped. Did I pay the water bill last month? The trashman cometh. Ow. My fingernails need trimmed. Ex-ter-mi-nate!
I lead such an exciting life. And Cleveland sucks.
So I’m supposed to be writing a poem. NaPo came and went. MaPo came and went. Both with a poem a day. The rules for JuPo are different. This time a poem every three days, with all that lovely lovely time to refine and develop and…
Yeah. I haven’t started. Refined? Developed? HaHA!
Procrastinated and rushed is more like it.
Because if the Elizabeths are Berts, this world’s not big enough for the lot of us.
| You Are Bert |
 Extremely serious and a little eccentric, people find you loveable – even if you don’t love them! You are usually feeling: Logical – you rarely let your emotions rule you You are famous for: Being smart, a total neat freak, and maybe just a little evil How you life your life: With passion, even if your odd passions (like bottle caps and pigeons) are baffling to others |
I knew I’d be Bert. I’ve got the hair.
As a Cleveland fan, I’ll take it.
I think I’m the only Indians fan who is also a Jim Thome fan. Go Jimmy! Just please not so much when you’re playing Cleveland, mmmkay?
Hand painted chocolate turtles.
Even if they tasted like chalk, they’d be the neatest thing ever.
They’re color coded, too. Includes two of each: Brown (almond), Red (pecan), Yellow (cashew), Blue (walnut), White (macadamia) and Green (pistachio). And Mama turtle is praline almond.
Oh my.