Gone again

Always supposing that it could be said to be so. And how is Mrs. Fitzgibbon?

GONE? -->

"NOT-GONE? GONE AGAIN?
NOT-SIMEY?
SIMEY-SLIMEY-GONE?
DEAR, DEAR SIMEY-SLIMEY...
WE DID LOVE HIM SO."

"OH SHUT UP AND STICK HIM
IN THE CASSEROLE!"

"GANNET ON A STICK."
            MONTY PYTHON

"PYTHON ON A STICK."
            MONTY GANNET

"IT'S STUCK TO THE CARPET."
            AFTER THE PARTY

"IT'S STUCK TO MY FACE."
            DURING THE PARTY

"PARTY ON A STICK."
            POGO-FANCIERS' MEETING

"PUDDLE ON AN ELK."
            SAJMĈJO

Anatiferous haiku

Today's word in: Anatiferous (ANATIFEROUS)

{up the left side of the page}
There is no writing between
the lines in this sentence,
but that does not mean
it presents an ideal of clarity.

Haiku
Infinite regress
Is always already an
Infinite regress

Haiku
YQ?
Search me!

Q Q Q Q Q Q Q Q {door} <-- that pun is the end of the line

{down the right side of the page, with tortoises crawling upwards}
There is no

writing between

the lines in this

sentence either.

There is no in this,

{upside down at the bottom of the page}
Answer: "Producing ducks or geese; i.e. producing barnacles..."

A Leonard Cohen song

    One who for her own instruction
    Wrote limericks on deconstruction
    Was heard to retort
    "I'm a boring old sort –
    But it's a great deal more fun than induction."

    In ever-perverser delight
    To deconstruct limericks all night
    She would further impart
    "I'm a tedious fart
    Fortunate really I'm right..."

These limericks were brought to you by the word "anhydrous" and the number "synonymity" because neither has an "X" in them, except for neither. There, told you it was unstable. The ludicrousness has put on ludo, and the playing writes are over. No more Professor Wicket-Keeper, our vespas now are sunk. Whooo hit the elephant with the tram-ride – named despair?

This could be a Leonard Cohen song. Or a party in a disused brain. Raving craving for gravy... swing low, sweet gravy-boat, running for to catch the tram. Careless words – crossed lines. Hairless birds – bald
                Unless they've got
                    Feathers.

Quoth the raving

Is this self-referential? Only so far as it isn't that. Et tu, tutu! Too too solid flesh would melt into a fishy on a little dishy, ran screaming into Doris Day. Out, out brief candle! Life's but a damned spot, a poor tomorrow / That mops and mows an egg upon the floor / And then is raven nevermore.

    Will there be lampstands still for three?
    Quoth the raving "Don't mind me!"
    But he was too disturbing underwent
    And brought the spider plant from Omsk to Gwent.

    How many fives? And maybe two
    I'll call it Physicist for you.
    How do you sing when five miles long
    Vulcan, vegan, strictly bong!

    And fish, old fish, familiar now
    Astrophysicist, navy cow
    Salad days and spinach nights
    Read the cauliflower his rights.

And make sure the woodlice are candyfloss by Seine.