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I think I want to change my Tumblr URL but I don’t know what to.

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One of these things is not like the others.

Two of the three that are like the others, I had to add to Goodreads manually. Poor F. S. Flint, you were so sad and now the internet doesn’t care about you.

One of these things is not like the others.

Two of the three that are like the others, I had to add to Goodreads manually. Poor F. S. Flint, you were so sad and now the internet doesn’t care about you.

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batmansymbol:

batmansymbol:

if it’s late enough and you’re lonely enough, the carly rae jepsen lyric “before you came into my life i missed you so bad” starts seeming increasingly deep and emotionally complex

3:02 AM and this fucking lyric looks like fucking nietzsche

stare into the abyss and the abyss will call you maybe

heck yes

(via becausegoodbye)

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'Eau-forte', F. S. Flint

On black bare trees a stale cream moon
Hangs dead, and sours the unborn buds.

Two gaunt old hacks, knees bent, heads low,
Tug, tired and spent, an old horse tram.

Damp smoke, rank mist fill the dark square ;
And round the bend six bullocks come.

A hobbling, dirt-grimed drover guides
Their clattering feet—
       their clattering feet !
            to the slaughterhouse.

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June.

June.

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"Go in fear of abstractions. Don’t retell in mediocre verse what has already been done in good prose. Don’t think any intelligent person is going to be deceived when you try to shirk all the difficulties of the unspeakably difficult art of good prose by chopping your composition into line lengths."

Ezra Pound.

I appreciate a lot of what he has to say about poetry but he was an awful anti-Semitic fascist in a not at all hyperbolic sense and it makes me so mad.

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"It is small wonder that Imagist poetry should be incomprehensible to men whose sole touchstone for art is the literature of one country for a period of four centuries."

— From the preface to Some Imagist Poets 1916.

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'You Are Like the Realistic Product of an Idealistic Search for Gold at the Foot of the Rainbow', Marianne Moore

Hid by the august foliage and fruit
  of the grape vine,
  twine
     your anatomy
       round the pruned and polished stem,
             chameleon.
             Fire laid upon
       an emerald as long as
      the Dark King's massy
    one,
could not snap the spectrum up for food
  as you have done.
Audio

Blueline Medic – Precious Things

I’ve been sad in the past that, despite “Making the Noveau Riche” being such a great, great song, I never got into any of Blueline Medic’s other stuff.

Thanks to Tori Amos I now have two songs of theirs that I like. Well, one and a half, I guess.

(Kind of sad they didn’t throw caution to the wind and go for those high vocal notes, but I suppose one can’t have everything.)

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In March 2008 I saved this bit of text from a website that is no longer online.

Big bold Radiohead, complain about how technology breaks down humanity while you hide in your studio, communicate exclusively online, pretend you’re science fiction. Be sure to play limited engagements! Make sure the tickets are expensive! This isn’t social commentary, it’s marketing and supply-demand economics. Pretending to give a shit is good business.