A man in a red dressing gown looks out of his ground floor window on to Mt Sion. He is talking to a telephone. As I pass , I hear his say"Hi there" into it.
I am reading Fortunata and Jacinta, a long sprawling novel about life in Madrid, by the 19th century, Spanish novelist, Perez Galdos. While it is not notable for its narrative drive it has some good moments. I particularly enjoy the observation by the do-gooder Guilermina to her playboy nephew, ..." and besides, it's bad for you to be always travelling around like a letter with the wrong address on it".
Crow on top branch
Opens his beak, says ca-argh.
A black hole is born.
2 comments:
a surrogate granny that i once knew & revered back in witshire once told me;
"tristan ! you're like a fart in a colander and don't know which way to blow"
This gets perilously close to the event horizon - very good haiku.
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