I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes.
I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over.
I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong.
And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions.
I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely.
It's what we do.
Well, y'know, I was just about all mermaided out there, but hey...
RDG: We'll never know... "Dead men tell no tails" Did she take him to meet her cod-father? No, I shouldn't be flippant, poor lad. A watery grave.
Adullamite: You benighted heathen. William Butler Yeats wrote some lines of great beauty. He could be doom-laden, it's true, but what about "He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven"?
Max: I can hear them singing, beyond the surge of the shore, O listen, they're calling me and I must go..... Well, no... I mean, the sea's sixty miles away, but sometimes, hmmm... Good grief man, what have you got against e e cummings?
May I be the first to note he most likely died happily with a smile on his face ??!!! xxx
ReplyDeleteThat Yeats was a ball of laughs wasn't he?
ReplyDeleteAm I the only one who is beginning to sense a kind of truly unhealthy obsession with with unreal fishlike women and siren-sea nymphs here?
ReplyDeletee.e. cummings is the barometer dropping rapidly on this pices fantasy. Heed. Stay away from the light.
Let it go, Souby. Back away slowly...
Well, y'know, I was just about all mermaided out there, but hey...
ReplyDeleteRDG: We'll never know... "Dead men tell no tails"
Did she take him to meet her cod-father? No, I shouldn't be flippant, poor lad. A watery grave.
Adullamite: You benighted heathen. William Butler Yeats wrote some lines of great beauty.
He could be doom-laden, it's true, but what about "He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven"?
Max: I can hear them singing, beyond the surge of the shore, O listen, they're calling me and I must go.....
Well, no... I mean, the sea's sixty miles away, but sometimes, hmmm...
Good grief man, what have you got against e e cummings?
I'm siding with Max on this one, Soubry. xxx
ReplyDelete