POETRY
A future traveller found a sheet of headed paper in one of the infinite monkeys‘ typewriters. ‘The human guilt complex’, or ‘The Simplicity of Human Complexity,’ stacks of an evolving soliloquy were left in the Unfinished Literary Agency‘s photocopier.
The writers continue to evolve, and they’re apparently handing out flyers in the street. They’ve learned to publish.
The Art of Simplicity on Complexity. Pardon my second language inability (in case you find anything erroneous). Today I learn a new word ‘soliloquy’. Before this I only knew monologue. Soliloquy has the quality of a pianist’s fingers, while monologue seems more like the middle chunk of a turnip. Such unreasonable penchant we have for that particular something … Animals are loveable, from a certain distance of course.
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