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hey there–

don’t you hate catchy titles that just bait to switch? we get roped in again by some son of a bitch who knows our curiosity’s worse than a cat’s so they lay down a briar of thisses and thats.

but this right jolly fellow with gray hair and wrinkles with a grin that is crooked and a left eye that twinkles now ceases the nonsense and staves off attack having baited and switched why he switches right back.

there was a calm scientist aaron by name who sought not only knowledge but fortune and fame and his pigeon chest swelled even more with the pride that his asthma was cured and he’d taken a bride.

they lived well off his royalties and truest love and they searched here and yon and below and above for the best installations of magic and light that would make perfect rainbows by day dusk and night.

so we now close the curtain on aaron and djenn the pragmatic asthmatic and his sacred wren and imagine prismatics that let our eyes feast on genetic æsthetics that soothe savage beasts.

once upon a time there was a man named paul myron anthony linebarger

he wrote a magic book called Norstrilia and one of its chapters was headed “Counsels, Councils, Consoles and Consuls”

and he nimbly interwove advice dispensation and diplomacy convening and computer interfaces and “Lords of the Instrumentality” in that one astonishingly brief chapter

.

such wordplay danced through the novel at the service of a story of mind-bending majesty of scope

and i am forever grateful to the man whose pen name “Cordwainer Smith” is itself wordplay since a cordwainer makes shoes and a smith forges metal

so by way of riding on his coattails or paying him hommage my poem ties together five like words

the guilty man was hung/and from his sad life sprung/his dying breath turned cloudy in the cold

insurance for his widow/encountered har-maggido/with allegations flying truth be told

but she had an attorney/who helmed her courtroom journey/and proved no suicide nor breach of trust

so forthwith she was paid/and all thought she had made/the best of things…as we all can, nay, must

.

cordwainer smith was a punster/as am I/and in Norstrilia he named a character Houghton Syme/whom the protagonist Rod McBan called “Old Hot and Simple”

and now i have an odd confession/that demonstrates how dr. linebarger has influenced me

eighteen years ago i worked for the healthcare system then known as scottsdale healthcare

whose ceo at the time was a man named tom sadvary

and i thought of him as “Old Sad and Various”

.

please do look into Cordwainer Smith dear reader/if you are at all curious

and if you find “No, No, Not Rogov!” in your investigations/reflect on how now there is a thing called “Neuralink”

and marvel at the good doctor’s prescience

if i eat in the late evening/then i am one who sups supper/making me a supper supper

and if i habitually greet friends with “‘Sup?”/ as a contractual corruption of “What’s up?”/ why then i suppose/whether or not i wear supp-hose/that i am a supper supper supper

but then if a pterodactyl swoops down and dines on me/well guess what?!/i will have become a supper supper supper’s supper

and the pterodactyl/also one who sups

and if i am clark kent also known as kal-el

then we have a super supper supper supper supper’s supper

and speaking of super

this poem is over

dost off your preconceptions friends

for dostiny awaits in hiding in the crooks and nannies of quirkish uncanniness

in the two games i play online there are certain words allowed and certain ones not

and the archaic DOST and DOTH and DOETH and DOEST are all usable so with the one game giving you a sixteen-letter array and the array clumps ADEHOST together your fingers become flurrious making DOST DOS DO ADOS DOE DOES DOEST DOTH and DOSE

HOT TOD TAD DATE and many others

and if one of the letters is painted yellow and another mauve why your points go through the roof

and the fornix, the pleasure center of your brain, goes bingbingbing and gives you a dopamine fix

and you end up spending many more hours at this meaning-poor activity and you realize your hourglass is filled not with sand but urine because you are pissing your life away

but it is fun so thou dost continue

durst is another fun weird old word

rhymes with burst

something seems to be a mis

(mes amis is my friends mesa me might be a small plateau town in maine and between two res and two fas you will find two mis)

a cartoon cat nomnomnominates lasagna

(nom is the way norm is pronounced in south boston and if nome a small town in alaska got the e frozen off ditto and then there’s the dyslexic jamaican)

maybe ers is an embroidered cockney towel

(your brain resides between your ears but to make ears you can jam an a into ers and the superman of 60s dc comics said er when he was stuck for something to say and ulp when he was stymied and there were a lot of oofs too amongst the ulps and the ers and the word-append er means one-who exemplified by tender being one who tends and by logical extension the word-append ers men’s ones-who however surrenders does not mean ones who surrend)

(glad to be of welp that’s it for now folks)

Today I left work early and went to Sahuaro Ranch Park, where my sculptured bird is on display as part of the 57th Annual Glendale Arts Council’s Juried Show. I found my bird, “Cockeyed Optimist,” on a little pedestal:

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Less than an hour later I was sitting in front of the entrance of the library just north of Sahuaro Ranch Park, and a peacock walked by and then stood in front of me:

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As for being Tubered, I have been on this planet for more than 65 years, and only today learned that the word “tuber” comes from the same source as “protuberant.” It delights me that “tuber” is bookended by “pro” and “ant.” Just waiting to be unearthed by a word-digger in need of sustenance! 🙂

Here are three sketches I did today. The top one seems to include someone who looks like a friend of mine, and I have sent him a text asking if it’s just my imagination, but have not heard back. The other two are typical castings-about for concepts to flesh out. Note that the middle image includes someone who is about to cast with a rod and reel. If I’d put a red dot on the figure’s forehead, and a cast on one of the arms, and a cast in one of the eyes, the weather forecast would be Overcast(e), because my cast would then include a member of a caste in India, arm in a cast, cast in an eye, casting a fishing line, fantasy sequence not furnished by Carlos Castaneda. Perhaps the tackle box includes a set of castanets.

Perhaps I’ll shut up before someone casts aspersions on my mental state. Aloha, Friends!!

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Inktober is over, but it would be a mistake to get out of inking practice. Thus this trifle, a semi-obvious pun with a little serendipity in that an anatomical drawing and a bit of faked musical notation counterpoint each other harmoniously.

It is good to learn the heart. Like a city, the heart does not make sense without its inlets and outlets. That goes for the metaphorical heart as well. ❤