Typed by Kirs Jay (Because Jessika has a strange illness preventing her from typing -- HER ARM IS BROKEN!)
So, we're writing about this god damn poem by B. P. Nichol. It's called "Blues". This is totally what it looks like, I did a rendition of it in microsoft paint!
... Seriously, THAT'S what it looks like. Hand to god. Or.. Broken arm to god.
What does it even mean?! Who the heck knows. "Love can not be translated" - Jessika Savoie. Well, that's for damn sure. "It is confusing, a tangled mess of misunderstanding" - Jessika Savoie.
It's not even a poem, it's a 'pitchur.' It can't even be "read as a linear poem" - says 'da book'. I'd like to see someone try to read it aloud, that could be quite amusing. As amusing as a BROKEN ARM! True. True.
And to leave you with a few kind words:
-Puppies, Icecream, Cupcakes avec Jimmies and Sunsets! Évol. (we've got bi-lingual!)
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