Putting Cheese in the Mouseholes
Mr Pugh, in the School House opposite, takes up the morning tea to Mrs Pugh, and whispers on the stairs:
Here's your arsenic, dear.
And your weedkiller biscuit.
I've throttled your parakeet.
I've spat in the vases.
I've put cheese in the mouseholes.
[Door creaks open]
...nice tea, dear.
Why did I choose this extract of Dylan Thomas's Under Milk Wood as an inspiration for the title of my blog? Because the imagery used makes me chuckle in awe. I felt I needed to share this chuckle.
Second inspiration of the day, discovered by me not long after (and just that little bit cooler than) John Denver:
Robert Johnson - a blues singer. A legend. Hot.
And I feel so lonesome
you hear me when I moan...
Now you know the coils ain't even buzzin
little generator won't get the spark
Motors in a bad condition
you gotta have these batteries charged
But I'm cryin please
please don't do me wrong
Who been drivin my terraplane now for
you-hoo since I've been gone...
I had been playing Terraplane Blues (lyrics above) from a guitar book for ages, and only found the initiative to download it yesterday. This was a good idea. He is also an interesting guy to research: there are only two photos of him in existence, he wrote a load of songs, and was supposedly poisened at a fairly young age ... that's pretty much all people know of him. I love trying to fill in the gaps.
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