Bumble bees ride waves all the way to Oklahoma on a hot winter day.
Pencils make great broomsticks during snow storms after lunch.
Bath tubs walk sullenly through the meadows on a bridge while screaming profanities at their mothers.
Lamp posts are dangerous in certain parts of the living room.
Blankets fly like monkeys with no shirts on during a long meeting.
******Yes, this is what my blog has become after 21 days of straight posting. But making no sense is harder than it seems.**********
4 comments:
In My Craft or Sullen Art
In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms
I labour by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.
Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art
Dylan Thomas
I like it! Sometimes I have dreams where I speak in word salad. Very difficult to do in real life.
I love this! But I feel cagey because you've discovered my secret (unless this is a subtle way to out me, in which case, I understand) because my blog has been nothing but nonsensical word association for the past 21 days!
I love this sentence: "Pencils make great broomsticks during snow storms after lunch." Actually, I love ALL the sentences, they are super.
the lamp post one is my favorite.
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