956


doe nuzzles
a deer made of wires
and lights

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5 thoughts on “956

  1. dat’ll due doe, dat’ll do! And I had to be contented with watching a stretchy black cat backdropping its picture-window stage with a matte-white curtained proscenium go about its sunrise toilette as I sauntered towndownwardsly this Christmas Eve morn. But then, the passing shorty bull-terrier either trained not to paw its way up to the half-cracked rear-seat Beemer window with its mournfullike eyes on mine as if to say: please shoot my boss some nicer sense so I can nose and tongue the breeze better than this poor prison! And you get Bambi’s aunt! Pardon: I must go change my chagrins again! Be well, bud, bless your beasts and babies!

  2. Reblogged this on richwrapper and commented:
    Bruce Jewett gets all the fun: I get a stripper black cat before my town-downwardsly walking eyes and the saddest back-seat denied wind pooch’s big eyes and he gets a drunk doe trying to make time with a ‘lectric buck. Life just h’aint fair, I tells ya! Go. Read. Enjoy: from Haiku for Cats!

  3. Actually rebranded my blog as “cat nap revue” but the former name of site should do. Hey, J, have a splendid Christmas and keep it surreal! Cannot imagine my literary life without you. Got a feeling we will once again wind up together in the Core, this lifetime if not the next. Pax to the max!

  4. Will bow (wow) to Cat Nap Revue – the minor god of pun sayeth thus: I can imagine our literary twines un-twisted, but I am more the human who writes when I know you corporeal to my sur. This time, good sir, if you please, try picking something more like HoneyCrisp or Gala vice green. Any ol’e TimeLife you get I gotta good feeling I shall wheelfreeing through that particular magazine hunting not for spare .308 rounds but scanning the pages for thy poetry. I am splendinding still regardless of anyone else’s day, arbitrary or exceptional, as I have a certain surety you so likewise will. Savor each bump, bruise and pain: the giggles, chortles and guffaws any fool may gather in an oversized artist’s bucket: you, boon friend, deserve a barrel of each which to savor then distill and put forth pith and peach and the occasional jackrabbit. PBS did a rather nice repeat of The Buddha in gloss last week. Kept me past my beauty rest so I am doing dharma. Just got a glimpse of the view from the other universe which inhabits my newly restored cell’s highly reflective font face: he is old and surely someone up put him wet on more than one occasion. But I still beautiful somewhere. You, amphibious sir, are Chesty’s gift to The World. Go unwrap thyself and go gaga as grandad! Later, my friend!

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