Due to various exigencies of life and our possession of something like 18 jobs of late, we think we have remembered to mention to approximately none of you that we have been doing these over here for the past few months or so–viz, fucking around with Friday’s Times headlines because God in his infinite wisdom did not see fit to give us actual skills of any kind. In any case, you’ll find today’s official poem by clicking here by five-ishy today, but today we had some overflow poetry that was too gnomic and plaintive to inflict on New York magazine’s online readership. Not too gnomic and plaintive to inflict on you, though, dear reader! We have no idea what it all means, but feel free to offer analysis. We just liked the ducking at birdsong thing.
A Relaxed Approach to Life, Up for Sale
Duty Wears on the Soul.
Citizen of the World,
You Can Call It the Little Easy,
A Road Trip Back to the Future,
New Coin of the Realm
When the Snow Begins to Fall.
He May Not See It Stop.
Does Soprano Get Whacked? Does He Get a Banana Split?
Expert on Bird Talk,
When a Bird Sings an Aria, You’d Be Wise to Duck.
Walking Out to Sea
The Only Constant Is Change,
Lands You Can’t See in a Guidebook.
Who Else but an Old Buddy Can Tell How Lost You Are?
* Logo courtesy of Daily Intel. One hopes.