I learn new terms all the time. Morphic Field, for example, or Justified Sensuality. Responsive Heartstrings and Horny Wharf Incubation. Irreversible Griddle Wisdom and Pinto Hysteria. Raconteur Palisade and Lip Salute Project. Revolving Faucet and Rhododendron Pallbearer Magnets. I consider this to be a product of major reciprocity concerning the isometrics of unseasonable courtyard wheels. Definitions are always intriguing. They contract and dilate, expand and shrink, and do opposite things to opinionated people at inopportune times. This makes leather snort at the dexterity of belts. Mutant flamethrowers cause liquids to listen to their own vacillation. The majesty of socialism is the kind of contradiction that etches work into fairylands of exquisite vivacity. My own thoughts escape me, running around in my brain like chili peppers in a particle accelerator. God particles spew everywhere. And the physicists go home reeling, drunken with pirouettes of discombobulated soul spawn.

—Reprinted with author’s permission from his blog, Tillalala Chronicles
(23 January 2020)

Bio: John Olson