Until further notice, Melly and Marvin her cute baby are at kd’s place.

Oh, also at Spacecheese, I see.

Mmm, melly-meme.

It’s nice. Go there now.

They thought you’d say this: unlikely phrases from real phrase books.

Must I swallow them whole?

Devo engoli-los inteiros?

I’m going to prescribe some suppositories.
Ik geef u een recept voor zetpillen.

She has excellent breasts.
Mae bronnau ardderchog da hi.

What year is it?
Ke ngwaga wa bokaye?

I had yams and fish for two days, and then I ate fern roots.
He ape ne ka i-a ka’u no elua la, a mahope ai au i ka hapuu.

How many years will you stay in Nepal?
Nepaalmaa kati barsa basne?

Here’s to future cooperation between our organizations!
Za nashe budushchee sotrudnichestvo!

[via Uren.Dagen.Nachten.]

Only breath

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu,
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion.

or cultural system. I am not from the East
or the West, not out of the ocean or up

from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all. I do not exist,

am not an entity in this world or the next,
did not descend from Adam and Eve or any

origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
of the traceless. Neither body or soul.

I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
worlds as one and that one call to and know,

first, last, outer, inner, only that
breath breathing human being.

The Essential Rumi, Translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne, Copyright 1995 by Coleman Barks, HarperSanFrancisco

One more Rumi poem:

There is a way between voice and presence
where information flows

In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.

Feral Living would like to take this opportunity to pay tribute to those unsung, hardworking heros, cheesy entertainers. Night after night, they tickle the ivories on their fancy little keyboard/synthesizers, crooning popular tunes as we sit at our wedding receptions and other gatherings, talking among ourselves, completely ignoring their efforts, their hard work, their pain, their sequins.

Hats off to you, I say. Hats off to you!

Hats off to X and Y, the two entertainers at the reception we attended last night, him in a little monkey vest, snazzy haircut and head mounted mic and keyboard, her with a sequin vest with lots of cleavage and a Julia Roberts sort of thing going, except she was like Julia Roberts pressed down to about 5′ 7″, with all the extra mass going into her caboose. They were there on the stage, crooning well-known tunes with smallish voices, he’d play sax solos and guitar solos on his keyboard. Once they took a break to announce that they were available for birthdays, weddings, and other gatherings.

Simultaneously, all over the world, in every country including North Korea and Iraq, similar entertainers were doing exactly the same thing. Entertainers genetically locked out of fame and fortune, or because of destiny and kismet, too short or too fat or too poorly connected were singing their little hearts out in their sequins and tails, dancing around and strumming their instruments, announcing during the course of the evening that they are available for birthdays and weddings.

Then packing up and going home.

Applause.

Just wanted to mention that, pound for pound, I’ve found more poems I like by poets I hadn’t heard of before at Riley Dog than at any other weblog.

Thanks, Steve.