December 2011
200 posts
2 tags
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He...
“By my intimacy with nature I find myself withdrawn from man. My interest in the...”
– Henry David Thoreau (via shinyshinyleather)
