| About the author: | What is it about today's ghost that makes him quite so spiffing, quite so modern as the already and always. . ? Of course, the ghost is able even to juggle with bubbles burst beyond the tears of fairies even and is renown throughout the ghost-geography for being quite good at simple psycho-plasmic feats of heads, hands, penguins and parachutes – also running into walls. . . The world is quite beyond me – but one cannot help but sing hellos in hallelujahs bonkers as budgerigars left out in a shower of frogs. . . enjoys ping-pong and non-Euclidian line-dancing – so (sings the idiot-ghost) "Hello – I must be going. . . hello – I must be. . ." (ooh, our ghost suddenly realizes he’s just the ghost for he) ". . . hello-ing" hello. |
One day – all the fried eggs in the world discovered themselves with something other to do. . . something other to be, (in deed) – note (gentle reader) (for it is thee) – it is with some, though not masses, of deliberate deliberatisation that we select-a-we the word other - not better – or more useful – or dada even... Though absurd as it may sound do or be, one of the would-be-fried-eggs-that-isn't took upon the role of the word 'even' in the title of the Marchand de Sal's 'the bride stripped bare by her bachelors even' – and (so far – still early yet – only just turned Dali's egg-timer) even Rrose Selavie hasn't noticed the difference –
even. . . Gentle then. . . and gently - of course (just as soon as it is a bit later – a page or so) – the both of us (diligent reader) can be as viciously violent as heck – p'rhaps even repulsiver even see this cloud – a fried-egg – yes. Let's just look (in a general sort-of way before we get into the horrific detail) – that bright yellow handbag – a fried-egg – this light bulb, that imaginary girl with boyfriend problems, that badly-drawn llama in amongst unimaginable alpacas (with imaginary girlfriend problemics) – all fried-eggs - crikey, so several are the instances and upon us (as it were) are Another one has elected to be the planet Saturn with exactly the same particles ring-a-rose-ing about it – another, a goose drinking wine – this one, a tamarind monkey chewing tobacco of the chewable kind on a street car named Divine (in fact, another fried-egg). . . |
