Fragrant Blooms From The Garden Of Poesie Dept.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti - two names that shouldn't be in the same room, leave alone on the same luggage tag. Turn down the lights. Set fire to a French cigarette. Wait - do that first. Light the cigarette. Turn down the lights. You'll burn the rug, else. Place this album on th' Victrola. Wait - put the lights on first, or you'll scratch the sucker up on the spindle. Cigarette, album, lights down. Okay, relax. You're hep.

Let your mind be carried back to a time when people did stuff like this, and it mattered. Sure, they did it to get laid - that's what poetry has always been about, getting laid - but it's a path little trodden these days. And that's a damn shame, Hortense.

This post made possible through th' auspices of th' Lupine Assassin Foundation & Glee Club.