Thursday, May 20, 2010

Born on a blue day

To adopt to chaos the mind might recite π for hours

two is yellow, six a void, five a clap of thunder

the rosetta stone

profound talent/profound disability
are divided by a thin line

Not even an eyelash.

Each hair on the human head has a number
the sparrow falls without counting.
Intelligence is not a gift it is

a cracker-jack prize, a wash off tattoo
a plastic compass
the candy coating on the pop-corn

or likely just the nuts that settle
to the bottom during shipping  

  1. What is a baby goldfish called?
  2. Where do iatrophobes fear to go?
  3. When is a nightshade a vegetable?
  4. 'Hands' are a part of what religion?
  5. What is the collective noun for collective nouns?


Wisdom, on the other hand, is a wonderful peculiar






*Italics are author/autistic/savant Dannel Tammet's words, used with permission. Photo by John Sweet, also used with permission. After the fact of the post, but still, it counts.


  1. those first three lines drew me in. my kids had a cousin who passed away two years ago and is sorely missed. he had this way of showing us an entirely different view and feel of the world. this piece shares some of that.

    wonderful photo! reminds me of how it feels after a cleansing rain.

  2. So sorry to hear of your loss, Sherry, thanks for commenting. I think John did a good job on the photo too, made me think of after a rain-shower also.

  3. This is beautiful. I love the line/stanza break on "Intelligence is not a gift it is

    a cracker-jack prize, a wash off tattoo"

    and the contrast that provides to wisdom.

    I miss you.

  4. Hey Mara,

    Thanks. Miss you also. Kids are out of school soon and done with softball baseball in a week or so, so things should slow down for me by then. We can pic-nic. If I can get mine to leave the comfort of air-conditioning that is.