(or not so) Random Things
I have been thinking about the bifurcated path of the prose poem (as we all do).
- Poetry as the art of the Aristocracy.
- Fable as the art of _____ man (common folk/ proles/ pre-industrial society nit-wits)
later on there will be a discussion of latitude
I have collected an army of ghosts. They are making a documentary about it. They is the BBC.
Gene Tierney plays herself as a ghost. She was the best ghost available in our budget range. The other ghosts keep speaking in their ghost language about ghost things to the other ghosts which no one can see. This is how they frighten you: their lack of details, their lack of structure, their general formlessness. It is best guarded against with a large mallet. After all it is an Army.
In the fall we will move on Dorchester, and if things go well, from there we will move inland reclaiming the world speck by speck.
- Speaking of ghosts:
- I was thinking of offering a valuable service to Born-Again-Christians (heretofore referred to as BAC’s)
- that when the RAPTURE arrives, and they are so unfortunate to be inside (a house, a mall, a church, a place with a ceiling)
- That I would, upon prepaid arrangement of course, go to their house or mall or church or wherever they maybe with a ceiling.
- And through clever and steady manipulation of poles and nets gently nudge or lead them towards the nearest exit, so as they may bodily ascend to heaven as JESUS had intended.
- I wonder if this market has been tapped.
- I wonder if BAC’s worry about getting stuck during the RAPTURE, I mean sure, a tree- no problem you just climb your way out. Same with a car or SUV, or any conveyance with a low ceiling.
But what I was saying about the dual history of the (prose) poem…somehow it doesn’t seem so important now.