I’m sitting on top of a mile-high stack of books
a lot of gray up here
but the flies are few
I can say stuff like now is the whimper of my discontent
in a self-contradictory and dead language kind of way
like a gorgeous woman named Agatha
which sounds like you’ve got something stuck in your throat
Heimlich
the height of modernity and the depth of inanity coming together
like last week when my fishmonger and I
got involved in a heated discussion
about the derivation and usage of the term scrod
on cell phones
fortunately I had my suspenders on that day
Friday, February 27, 2009
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