Who’s your dada?

For the down-low on Dadaism, get the wikipedia notes here.

This experimental ‘antiverse’ uses selected phrases from spam comments garnered from my foodblog.

Amison walked exactness
Kleenex sticking
tanned arm
his man
Belle began
her tongue
fed animals
Kill one knife sheath
very still
Harry who
chills down
tonight gone off
very basement
your neck and bunnies
dark cord that eyes flicked
his smile noise grew and stared
told her you inside
but ignorance slid
Popeye imitation
slip house and were clay
crouched imps beware
neighbors breathing
slit eyes was hoping
religious experience
everything became water
ghoul began
cold waves
Damn quiet

The heavens will comply

Today is Slie’s last day at frayintermedia.

She joined us as an intern in 2007 and became a permanent staffer after serving her time. We fell into an easy friendship, jamming out spoken word in the smokeroom while she taught me bits of Xhosa and decided I was black enough.

She’s moving on up to a great position as a communications someone-or-other at an organisation in Pretoria. I have no doubt that she will step up and up and on and on. She has the determination and drive to succeed for herself, and for her child.

Her little boy’s second name is Xhosa for ‘rain’, and that’s what’s inspired my first rhyming poem in years.

I know a rainmaker;
a claimstaker,
a groundbreaker.

I know a deep thinker;
a float neversinker,
an eyeswideopen blinker.

I know a rainpath guider;
a light strider,
a feetforward glider.

I know a rainmaker.

And I don’t mind the drizzle.