DR. WEST'S MIRACLE-TUFT
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Salut Taste

Mood:  chatty
Topic: Salut Taste

WOODSMEN &
THEIR IMPLEMENTS

Heraldic Evaluation
Mood:  chillin'
Now Playing: Thanks to Heather Nagami
Topic: Salut Taste




in formation, tight formation, beaded & pulling thru
chairs thru the slots I mustered something wasn't much
I don't like the bird exe him out starting with his eye
I make a coat of exes march to the right free felt necktie
collaring afterword all about being pinched / peenched
which does not. Doesn't it meter out to a flatness, the bottom half
wait there, halves, the kind of parochial halves that always happen, formations tree the bottom, more out of my knees
a little complacent about this page, settling in like a
borough that loses its smell that dims into a municipality

Three Cheers for the Year
Mood:  celebratory
Now Playing: Blogs are just like Vanity Plates
Topic: Salut Taste


okay its late and im sweating without much hope of not sweating in this place but its time to say it:

Happy Birthday to my blog, born just before or after a trip to Boston last summer while I was working the legal trade for a dollar in the summer between poems

now I'm working no trade and the blog is my best friend it is my balloon and it lets me do my balloon thing as often as I feel dizzy enough to do it

and if you want to know what my blog looks like, it is an animal that lives a secretive life, despite its frequent appearance in daylight, it has its shaggier moments it shares some characteristics with an otter
perhaps a giant otter that lives in a giant river and seems like a dog on the side of the water but not in the water no way yes my blog likes to dip under logs and see what lives on the underside, the submerged river life, that is the blog for me, we are fans of the snail, a submerged river person, and we are friends with the alligator, who sticks to the middle of the river and chomps on moor hens. We are even friends with the nutria and the citrusy teeth of the nutria and we especially appreciate the nutria and what he does with duckweed and how much nutrition the nutria provides for the alligator. Yes, thank you, nutria, you keep the alligator on his toes, which end in blackness if you must know and sometimes the toes seem blue if the light is right.

Now for some quotes acquired for this momentous occasion from some wonderful bloggers out there:

Jimmy Lo: I am so sold on this blog. No counting necessary, no preservatives. Just sold.

Dawn Pendergast: This blog makes me nervous. Where are my pills?

Josh Fox: Let's write a song about this blog. We'll call it "blogodoccio." Quick, bring me my guitar and clarinet. We must hie to the studio.

Homeless: This is the blog of a bigman. O bigman,
this is your blog. Who are you, bigman?

Arizona Drivers: Buy real estate from this blog. Dig rocks on this blog. Be true to God on this blog.

Me: Arizona Drivers, quit speaking to me while I drive. It could cause an accident.

President Bush: This blog will do a fine job on the Supreme Court.

J.C.: Whatever ye do to the least of the bloggers, ye do unto me.

In this blog you will have trouble. If it were not so, I would not have said it.

Paris Hilton (when asked about a potential Sea Quills movie): That's hot.

Dawn Pendergast: Can I be in the movie too?

Jane:

In the 21st century, this blog...

Christopher Coe:

This blog is an enormous example of what it is.

Katie Holmes:

I'm going to marry this blog.

Tom Cruise:

This blog is a jerk. It squirted me.


Jane:

This blog could go far. It could really change something. It could have a break through.


Shimpei Kusano:

This blog has no frogs. What gives?

Revision: Old Novel Lists, New Novel "Ahs"
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Two weeks from Today, my blog will be one year old!
Topic: Salut Taste
Old Novel Lists, New Novel “Ahs”


And a good choice is of the sort that reposes by the dull


A coffee table is a good place to start. Always more intrinsic to a room and to living than one might think,
the coffee table can become the depository of the living room but it need not be just a depository.
Put it in another room and see what happens. This reminds me of a place I used to work.

The Parable of the Big Lecture

Sometimes there was a big lecture, sometimes two smaller classes, one being a watercolor class for which we draped the floor with a large white canvas so the carpet did not get any paint on it, because then the big lecture would get angry and sullen and seem less majestic even though it wasn't that majestic to begin with. So you see, novels are like the big lecture, which lasts anywhere from 6-10 weeks, depending upon the size. Novels don't want any little flecks of paint on their surfaces, they want the expensive book cover, the numbers, the readership, and the yeah. It can only accommodate so many little classes, little classes which must use the wall divider to forget the oncoming of the big lecture.

To be sure, in the watercolor class, and in the memoir class next door taught by someone a little flaky, but who loves books, the object is more often than not a staff of flowers, staff in the sense of faculty, a large faculty of flowers that don't show up that well under track lighting, so everything turns out a little more baroque than the instructor would have liked, the instructor who actually remembers the names of interns and spiky flowers, core members of the faculty. Now these things are not thinking about the big lecture but the big lecture has sort of touched the room because the room itself is designed for big lectures, then modified for the smaller classes. This has import. This means one thing in particular and that is who will be challenged and who will never be challenged. The pain of never being challenged. That pain is piety. And if piety is a pain, then one would hope theirs is some relief. Furthermore, it is up to the memoir class, or the watercolor class, to inform the big lecture of what it is missing, which is basically everything that a person who loses smell is missing. Under the right conditions, ideas can offer little in the way of helpful obstruction.

The other ideas, resumed:

Fiction needs to be a coffee table though. It supposes
Itself the couch or the recliner but it should not be that big, in its own concept,
because pride goeth before a concept and we need more writing in that space, the novel.


If a third party is going to be in something
and I assure you all novelists are third parties, look at their sentences,
which want to be there, sure, but why wouldn't someone take role,
unless they were unconcerned about presence. Oh happy distance,


It is better to be a coffee table in the bedroom than a coffee table in the living room or,

Do not participate. Novelists,

Throw your bread to the birds and walk away.
You don't have to eat it with them. They understand.
They know they can walk away; this is called intuition.