…and Rimbaud’s limb being so caught up goes be-bopping out the door into the forest through the trees – raga rag in the grass overturning picnic baskets whizzing past churchyard gates right in step it genuflects then aims and leaps over the scene over the rainbow out of the canvas into space pure space—as remote and colorless as dear arthur’s face. a face made incorporeal full of grace. sunken eyes—those cobalt treasures closed forever.
clenched fist relaxed wrist his pipe turned in…
out in the garden the children are gathering it’s not a whim. they are accurate immaculate, as cruel as him. they sing: legs can’t flail cock can’t ball teeth can’t bare baby can’t crawl rimbaud rimbaud facing the wall cold as hail dead as a doornail
Yes Ma’am and yes Sir! With an exclamation point, nothing less!
I was thinking of a way to shake the last of today’s annoyances away, and get my usual Cyranny mojo back… And I told myself, what better way to get in a good mood, than to open The Cove’s door to everybody, set some extra chairs, make the best of the remaining Christmas lights, and throw a party? It is Saturday night by all means!
Hey! You can wear your fanciest glitter-dress, or just rock your comfiest pjs, no one will mind! So what do you say? Let’s do this!
I won’t keep rambling on here, I’m saving my energy for the mingling below! So here are the “rules”… Or so to speak;
Introduce yourself and your blog a little, for people who wouldn’t know you already.
Share links to your blog, and/or to friends of yours in the…