One, Two, Three, Four .....

When it's time to go to bed
I lay my body down
But I can't sleep
So I count sheep
And all of them are brown

(Kim Kardashian)

Remembering Phil


He loved me in April
and left me in May.
He gave me the world
and then took it away.
He hated New Jersey,
so he didn't stay.
He moved back to Vegas
where prostitutes play.

The Devil Is In The Details

From earthtimes.org:

Reykjavik - The body of excentric chess genius Bobby Fischer was exhumed from an Icelandic cemetary Monday to clarify a paternity claim.

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Two typos in the lead sentence, yet they spelled Reykjavik correctly. Go figure.

You Can't Be Too Careful



From the topics.nytimes.com article on W.S. Merwin:


He has said that he used his initials because doing so seemed serious and adult, in the manner of T.S.Eliot and W.H. Auden.

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Could it be that the poet avoided his given name, William Stanley Merwin, because it is an anagram of "wearily immanent swill"?

Plan B

Why write a sonnet when you can tweak a few lines from W.S. Merwin?


White whale
Now that we are sending you to The Happy Ending
That great god...
Tell him
That we who follow you on Twitter invented forgiveness
And forgive nothing

Song of the Great White Whale


More happiness than heaven will allow
A song by Pink, a chocolate bar -- and Thou!

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These are the last two lines of a sonnet about Al Gore's encounter with a massage therapist. Something tells me I shouldn't be writing it backwards.

Too late now.