Everyone became famous 15 minutes ago.
We are all together in one big tent.
Kittens raised in the dark will never develop normal vision.
When enough of them are wrong, they’re right.
Children taught the wrong words for everything.
Try pointing towards the undefined.
Suggestible students tend to believe they have whatever disorder they’re currently studying.
‘Beyond a certain point, complexity is fraud.’
Final week of the semester: a thinly attended, token lecture on poetry.
When bored, the monkeys would just masturbate all day.
Losing the ability to say ‘I’.
I have always been a wretched speaker.
This tapped fuelsource may not prove relocatable.
Like a philosopher, placing everything in inverted commas.
I’m not a fucking mindreader.
Laughter as the ‘false-alarm call’, revoking the need for assistance.
‘If you’re not reading this for pleasure, you’re reading it wrong.’
Dropping dead from lack of contact.
Window-glass flexed by the wind.
Palm resting on the hump of the mouse.
Going without for months.
Short course on how to say ‘No’.
Thinks you’re cute, feels he’s getting warm, looks for an entrance.
Primates will signal the location of food.
Overly-generic comforting gestures trivialise the extent of the other’s sadness.
‘Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.’
Yay, urban-life technologies warp the psyche in unexpected ways.
The simplest phrases have their difficulties.
Such gadgets and tripwires seem the preserves of a younger man.
At one time considered entering a monastery, but was above all desirous of information.
‘The technologist produces a poem, whereas the poet trashes a machine.’
I have never been drunk in my life.
Come on you little shit, everyone’s waiting for you.
The first drawing ever produced by an ape was a drawing of the bars of its cage.
Those hoodied block-boys shouting, ‘To hell with being awake!’
No one blames them.
Sleep deprivation disinhibits.
‘Genuine public debate.’
Seriously, how free can the market be?
The technology ticking flawlessly.
Sub-par finishing proved the difference.
Let nothing go unreplied.
(Editing > writing.)
Note: 'Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise': Shakespeare, sonnet #106.
Below: Michael Goldberg, 'Sardines' (as immortalised in Frank O'Hara's 'Why I Am Not a Painter')