So Word didn't install properly, so no gloomy poems yet. Worse than that my hard drive started making high pitched noises like tacks in a blender yesterday. Then in just died. It is still making slightly less harsh sounds, but I fear the end is near.
This morning I woke up feeling confused and rudderless because I thought I would be wihtout the internet again for a time. Technology is the cure for enlightment. Talk about ruining a quiet mind.
Laura Lee brought up the grieving process. I think I went through that a month ago when my wireless connection died. What are the steps? Anger, denial, bargaining and acceptance. I won't tell you the mnemonic tric for remembering that. Okay, I'll change it a little: Always drink alcohol before doing anything. The stages were similar. Now I try to save various things until my hard drive commits suicide.
Posts
3 comments:
Hark, hark the Lark!
I loved "I walk on gilded slivers". That's me!
I didn't want to tackle it on the food blog so I hope you don't mind me commenting here. Were you channeling Vachel Lindsay?
I made a gris gris today out of cayenne, my daughter's hair, my son's molar, and my ex-husband's name scrawled on a slip of paper. Oh, and an owl's liver. Offered it up to Saint Expedite.
Whoa! That's gilded splinters, sorry!
Always a pleasure Larky Laura Lee. "Walk on Gilded Splinters" is a Dr. John song from around maybe 1970, when he was still Dr. John the Night Tripper. I couldn't find the original on youtube – it's great. Beck samples a big chunk of it for his song "Loser".
I see what you mean by Vachel Lindsay. I just looked at his poem "Congo". But that's all Dr. John, no me. I have to rescue my poetry files from my half dead PC, but I turned off the heat in that room. Brrr...
Sounds like an excellent gris gris. You're funny.
Now back to working on this week's funtasmiasma.
Your comments always cheer me up. I like your wordplay.
Post a Comment