posted by Lane Savant at 6:42 PM
Since obviously the media has beenalerted all that is left for we regularfolks to do is word of mouth, andthe jungle telegraph, which has nowmorphed into the cyber telegram.Well, we could go door to doorand let others know, or stop carson residential streets, or ride publictransportation and make severalannouncements, or put messagesin bottles for the next ocean runin November.
Tis Wednesday, fine Sir Savant,and the acerbic wit wilts withmisuse or lack of it.You are probably off to seeDavid, to think in compositionand stanzas. Maybe on yourreturn, something will haverisen to the now bubblingcrest of your rejuvenatedcortex; or not.
After midnight 'tis, and the jazzwhiff of Dexter Gordon inROUND MIDNIGHT propelled meto listen to your CAPRICHINO 1, and it mellowed me out just fine,kind of kept seeing Woody Allenwith his thin lips locked on hisclarinet, playing with his wild men.This piece is jazz, and somethingmore, though I don't know enoughabout music to pigeon-hole it.
I am trying hard to not write pigeons
http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/10/31/halloween-party-at-jingle-poetry-monday-poetry-potluck-tomorrow/Awards 4 u. xxxHappy Belated Halloween to you. Our potluck is open, welcome linking,Old poems, poems unrelated to Halloween are welcome.Cheers!You rock!
Post a Comment
Create a Link