E.E. Cummings

who knows if the moon’s

a balloon,coming out of a keen city

in the sky—filled with pretty people?

(and if you and i should

get into it,if they

should take me and take you into their balloon,

why then

we’d go up high with all the pretty people

than the houses and steeples and clouds:

go sailing

away and away sailing into a keen

city which nobody’s ever visited,where



Spring)and everyone’s

in love and flowers pick themselves

Last day of work

A tasteful short film by Brian Brender

I just want to be an Issa haiku

the wind is part of the process

the rain is part of the process


Whene’er you feel comfortable, visit versedaily. They’ve had some great poems up there lately.

My life invaded by digital invaders. This new phone is a circus.

I smell so bad! Better deodorant is in the cards.

Hey, I’m moved in!

Things are great. I’ve still got a few more things to bring, though. Eh.

My roommates are fun to be with, and mellow. Mellow is so nice right now. And my room is fun, too. I slept so well last night; W. Main puts me to sleep. The trains don’t even wake me up. I like their sound, even their horns. In fact, I hear one way off in the distance right now. Long, long, short, long. Love it.

deth p sun!