I love the way that Instant Messaging sometimes creates accidental poetry. For example, an IM conversation between eponymous and me from earlier today:
eponymous: lunch plans?
patrick: hang on… beating my head against a wall just now
eponymous: so…the usual?
Then, there’s this scrap of Mrs. Dog telling me about a dream she had last night (I have taken out my comments because they don’t add anything interesting to what she was saying):
mrs. d: so… very strange dreams
mrs. d: i was an african man taking a train to escape a dangerous city, escaping to protect someone from our city who had gotten to the outside.
mrs. d: i had never been on the train before, i wasn’t allowed.
mrs. d: as i rode by, i could see thousands of middle eastern orphans walking next to the train
mrs. d: looking at me
mrs. d: one in particular, a little boy was carrying a white blanket
mrs. d: he would stop and sleep for awhile and then begin again
mrs. d: cute little guy
mrs. d: right before i woke up he forgot his blanket and was just a few feet away but was too tired to turn back around to get it
mrs. d: wish i could get it for him
I was still thinking about that when I found this photo on the Found Magazine site: