Friday, January 8, 2016


Childhood is a time when a goose could write rhymes and it would all make sense.

So where is the dog, where is the dish, Where is the star with which to make a wish?

I had a dream about non-sequiturs. I was a cow, you were the moon, my little dog laughed, and the dish ran away with the spoon.

And somehow it all made poetic dianoetic sense.

Consider present tense.

I have a plan, I am a cow, might I jump over the moon and would my little dog laugh to see such a sight, let the dish run away with the spoon.

Doesn’t follow does it?

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