26 September 2001

Thus far a frenetically busy week, made up of the kind of days which by the end leave you breathless, panting, stumbling up the stairs home to bed where, despite everything, you lie twitching and buzzing for an hour till finally, finally, you fall asleep.

ee cummings: “nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands”

Martin Amis is obsessed with writing as a way to boldly expose “the universal,” and through exposure, to justify it.

Ogden Nash: “The cow is of the bovine ilk; / One end is moo, the other, milk.”

Something in me is instantly repulsed by poems that begin with the word “O.” This must be the same visceral instinct that makes me despise Emily Bronte.

Emily Dickinson:

“Faith” is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see –
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency.

Gilligan’s Island:

This is a tale of our castaways
They’ll be here for a long long time
They’ll have to make the best of things
Cause it’s an uphill climb.

Oh, how junior high prep school.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit: “I see a street of gas stations, inexpensive motels, restaurants that serve rapidly prepared food, tire salons, automobile dealerships, and wonderful, wonderful billboards as far as the eye can see. My god, it’ll be beautiful!”