"We thought we smelt some madeleines
ala Les Temps Perdu.
We whiff'd once more and...Zut! Alors!
We whiff'd once more and...Zut! Alors!
'Twere more oDOR de loo.
(The loo near Speakers' Corner leaks;
still, patrons stand in queue.)"
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "...plus phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The matter posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
Tuesday, February 27, 2024
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What A's Still Not For: A Revised Reissue Of An Early Illuminated Alphabet
The 2019 original "What A's Not For," addressed to a boy and his sister, indicated one at a time to that anonymous pair not on...
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PWWL is pleased to acknowledge the participation of friend-of-blog JD in creating this item. Collaboration in name, collaboration in pro...
