“I walk alone, absorbed in my fantastic play, —
Fencing with rhymes, which, parrying nimbly, back away;
Tripping on words, as on rough paving in the street,
Or bumping into verses I long had dreamed to meet.”
-C.B.
Charles Baudelaire roamed the streets of Paris as a flaneur, a wandering poet in search of what we might now call “soft news.” His spleen was enormous. He floated down les avenues awash in absinthe, in a cloud of opium, being rained on by hydrogen and oxygen. A self described combatant, he fenced with the city to win its rhymes. Cities contain fences. Therefore, he might have sometimes fenced with a fence.
Replace “stroll” with “drive”, “the city” with “I-90”, and “poetry” with “blog” and you’ll see that I am exactly the same as Charles Baudelaire. He fenced for poetry, I for funny jokes. We are as one, except that I haven’t written poems called “A Hideous Jewess Lay With Me” and “To She Who Is Too Gay.”
En guarde, America!
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5 comments:
I'm so disappointed that you didn't coin the term "bloggetry". For a minute, I really thought you did. Then I Googled it and discovered, you did not.
Sigh. When are you going to start talking about Johnny Depp again? I like him.
As far as I knew, I did coin it!
This must mean that someone out there is as smart and clever as me.
Or it means that you are a copycat and not willing to fess up. ; )
Could I be a flaneuse?
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