
oy
odd malarkey
oligarchy
what to do
when to end
hatred trend
act or no
time to go

oy
odd malarkey
oligarchy
what to do
when to end
hatred trend
act or no
time to go

once upon a time there was an adsorptive card who received ink on her surface. she watched as her appearance was changed and she grew restless. finally she whispered to the old man making the marks, “do not make any more words. make chess pieces instead, and include a new piece called ASTROLOGER.” and so the man did, and so was born a new game, on a board that was now nine by nine, with the Astrologer piece nestled between Queen and King, and the middle row and column made not of ebony nor alabaster, but jade. and so the rules were changed to fit, and then Reality was changed to fit the new rules. and so the Universe became more harmonious.
The End

Crick? Knack? Paddy Whack? What kind of world is this, that nonsense rhymes should stick in our heads from infancy to decrepitude? A QUIRKY one, THAT’s what kind. And so let’s include Roald Dahl, the King of Quirk.
Crick (Paddy Whack) Knack
Climbing upward in the murk
Roald Dahl in leather jerkin
In for abracadabra’d Tea
Catch a handcuffed BBC
Knowing, click to Reykjavik

Fans of late-twentieth-century Reader’s Digest will remember a series of articles told from the point of view of various organs of a middle-aged patient named Joe: “I Am Joe’s Spleen,” “I Am Joe’s Bladder,” etcetera. Sly reference to the series was made in the movie Fight Club as well. So here is late-middle-aged patient Gary’s Brain.
Gary needs to get his head examined. But in order for that to happen, a specialist must order the imaging. And, indeed, that was done on July 1st. But then the order needs to be placed by the doctor’s office with the imaging firm. That was NOT done till quite late in the afternoon of July 5th. The imaging company did not receive the order till yesterday, Monday the 8th. And as of now, though an appointment was made of this morning for the Magnetic Resonance Imaging session, since my insurance company has not authorized the session, the appointment was set aside, “pending authorization.”
Gary’s Brain
Growth appears–rub-a-dub-dub
Get it while it’s just a nub
Auth required? I say thee Yarr
Action needed? Har har har
Rigatoni and lasagna
Rest assured you’ll get some on ya
You WON’T see me aujourd’hui
‘S UNFAIR–red tape Soup Tureen
Notice that in the illustration the next-to-last line is left out. I forgot to put it in before I scanned it. I think I may have Brain Problems.

window facets
when you have driven off a cliff
it serves no need to quench your spliff
a now-soon-ending story arc
dissolves to next scene: flaming barque
oh, lap-dissolve may make a mess
it wows the yokels nonetheless

Tomorrow at 7am, if all goes as planned, I will lie down on a slab and be slid into a claustrophobia-inducing tube, staying immobile as possible for about 45 minutes while slices of my brain are subjected to Magnetic Resonance Imaging. Amazing and seemingly-miraculous as this process is, the prospect of so much tube-time daunts me. I am also the weest bit fearful of what the imaging might reveal, though I’ve been told that it is overwhelmingly likely that they will find nothing serious.
Here is the quintuple, minimalist acrostic poem, with a transcriptional tweak for greater clarity.
****
MRI for GWB
Metaphor vying for dweeb
Roquefort bedewing a Grebe
Informal review of a plebe
****
Update follows tomorrow, Friends!

A fuller title would be “icad xxxviii: pane full/sens less/onward & expert” but it’s panefull enough as it is.
No transcription for this one, Friends. It would create more confusion than resolution. The words are mostly there for their visual impact.
After I finished the inked work, I got the whim to take a pastel pencil to it and so there are hearts and a would-be creator thinking of yet another heart. Part of the glory of the Index Card A Day project is the testing-ground aspect: you tend to not worry about trying and failing, since they’re just cheap index cards, and so you follow your nose more fearlessly, and either succeed or learn something or (as in this case) semi-succeed AND learn something. I think I learned that it can work with a lot more practice.

My super-talented sculptor friend Rafael Navarro just had a birthday. “Happy Birthday, you talented fellow!” I wrote on his Facebook timeline. Afterwards, realized: about a year ago I asked Rafa for permission to do a blog entry on him and his work. He answered some questions about his career. One of the things that came up was his trip to the famous marble quarry at Carrara, where Michelangelo got HIS marble. Rafael was granted permission to quarry and take away all the marble that he could carry at a single go. Marble is heavy, Friends, and it’s a good thing the talented Mr. Navarro didn’t take away a hernia to go with his marble.
My blog post never got written. In early August my younger brother Brian died, and things turned sideways for awhile. The three-week vacation I had started was cut short, and my aunt Diane, with my clumsy assistance, attended to the many details subsequent to the death of a loved one. And things like planned blog posts fell by the wayside.
Aside from the Carrara anecdote, I remember almost nothing of my chat with Rafa. I see his work when he or another art friend posts it on Facebook, and it’s uniformly both magical and professional. Interested parties may feast their eyes on his image-laden website, https://www.rafaelnavarroartes.com/ — and I hope that they (you) do so.
After I did my Index Card of the Day today, I had both urge and creative juice left over, so I started skating a white pastel pencil on the surface of a sheet from my Canson BLACK DRAWING/DESSIN NOIR/DIBUJO NEGRO 7×10 pad. A bird emerged. Then a young man, arms spread imitatively. Damn if he didn’t look a little bit like my friend Rafa. So I tried to make him look a bit more like him, and then I realized that I was finally doing the blog post I’d committed to do.

This complicated mess started out with a simple idea: let the poem and image demonstrate Complexity. It took about two hours to make. Along the journey issues of motif and loss of resolution due to smearing and overwriting came up. “Don’t worry,” Inner Voice assured, “It will all come out. And what doesn’t can be dismissed with yet another ‘It’s Complicated.'”
If you spent as much time looking at this thing as I spend making it, you will certainly see a determined-looking, perhaps nude young woman at left. you will probably see a cat. you may see two or three faces and/or necks and/or upper torsos. You will see the tip of a spear, and if you follow the spear shaft you will see someone wielding it and holding up a shield. But what I really hope you will see are two obvious rhythms and one subtler one. No matter how Complicated something is, a pattern may be discerned.
It’s Complicated
Invading realms marked Tricky Dick’s
Investment bankers Sic sic Sic
In f l i g h t s of impresario
Inventiveness sounds Gong & Om
Intending-harmers draw a map
Ingesting H A T R E D ‘ S plate of scrapple
Then R E A S O N faits her accompli
Threads denimmed Platinum très chic
Theatrics stemmed, the brouhaha
Thence T E A P O T S, D O M E S & apparat
The threnody will S W E L L then fade
Thus tying off a Celtic braid

Lucid dreamers PROUD
Instantiate an area
Vividness in NOW
Evens odd centarian
Happy Birthday, Denise!