a meme, a meme, a meme! and have you noticed that the observation of memes is itself a meme? anyway, a largely flarfist faction has been ordering Mike around. I love it. I think I've slipped the meme a bit but here anyway is some. I will keep going.
Mike, exercise the immediate onion.
Stop with the piano flap, Mike.
with your jelly simplified, be prepared, Mike, for more notebook clanking.
Don't be so sure of ontology when you're relaxed out of eggs, Mike.
Stick with the ham chore rhubarb step dance, Mike, if you can.
Mike, define kite with wax.
Mike, I really mean don't ever define kite with wax.
Mike, stress copter from along the river dumpster means damage bandy.
Mike, you should squawk curtains with those rich debs.
This prudish truck needs more wiring, Mike.
You take the table from the wrench and turn those little leftist green Hapsburgs, Mike.
Mike, you place the top slog on the lower embouchure, then flick the stew.
Mike, those almonds go in the nettle gust with the phone bank women.
Stuff sediment, Mike, in the tail gunner loam.
Place made acrimony under your seed pond with doofus, Mike.
Stop freaking bonkers next to marginal membrane players, Mike.
Mike, let go of that austere clutter in your nose hair favourite.
Ladle ink past the dojo, Mike, the squeamish need westerly.
Lick some bastion fluff in the meantime, Mike.
Make up your mime, Mike, those planets are charged.
3 comments:
Allen, I prefer your real writing.
Tim, I wrote something like this, some 15 pages of similarly exotic directives, a good 20 years ago. I think I take your meaning, but the idea of real writing sounds like getting stuck. but I think the imminent publication of Days Poem will be evidence of my real writing.
Yes, I think it will. Your work is amazing.
I do sincerely feel that some writing "sticks" and some just kind of slides like jello down a blackboard. If that's what you mean by stuck, then I don't mind the term at all.
"We stuck to our guns, which stuck to us," remember?
Your Friend,
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