clackin’ away in ole cackalacky
December 7, 2005 on 6:08 pm | In photo, poem | No Commentstyping ’till my fingertips are nipped by numbness. until my senses are dull dull dull like a ladybug imprisoned by winter. for the moment, enjoy her and my finger, before both are dulled down to shadows of themselves. also, a treatise on dullness.
[dullness]
Dullness is essentially
a dull thing, that is to say
a not-so-sharp thing. It is
dull, being dull, dull-witted,
lightly dull and light dullness,
submissive self-destructive
dullness, ideal dullness which is
ideally dulled down to a dull,
the art of being dull until
dullhood is fully reached and
full dullness is a dullard’s dream realized.
It is then that we can truly come-to-be the
dull-nation of which we dreamed and
built will be our dullhouse so may we go
dull-stepping into adulation of dullity and
we can forget about being or seeing
or being ready to live a life of being
and just be dully and thus be duly
dullfaced, content, and reaching for
anesthetic to dull this feeling
of plainly and simply living.
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