Let’s see, been busy busy.
The weather has been darn fine in Aberystwyth this week. A wee bit nippy and, as my mother always said, ‘bitter’. What does that mean? The weather gives you a bad after taste?
It’s like those nonsense jokes she used to tell me:
‘Why is a mouse when it spins?’ she said.
‘Erm…’ I said.
‘The higher it goes the fewer,’ she said.
‘Right,’ I said.
Which is a bit like postmodern language poetry because they like to put seemingly unassociated words next to each other and to disintegrate narrative and sentence and structure and poetic line.
Like this:
apples in the middle
L
A
M
P
S
ntoeoobk wirntnig
Ok, that is a terrible example. Actually, a good example is to look at digital poetries. That’s kind of there, almost, but a little different, but still, it’s quite a good example.
