Monday September 24th 2012
Scattered frost this morning might not augur a
winter so cold it lasts until June of next year. That clear night
and dry air, with Orion and The Plough just south of the Milky Way.
The Sky Blue like an Orange, or was it the Earth is Blue like an Orange.
He was a Frenchman, and I say this because he was born in one of the
nearly thirty seven thousand communes, or villages or parishes, of
Metropolitan France, which includes Corsica. "The Wasps are
flowering green." "The dawn is worn around the neck." His
first wife ran off with Salvador Dali.
"The fish of anguish." "She is
standing on my eyelids." "They make fire from coals, they make men from
kisses." "The light is always close to dying." His given name
was Eugene Emile Paul Grindel. His other name was Paul Eluard.
"On the white bread of days, I write your name." It was during the
second world war he found his nuts and bolts. He died in 1952.
He has a very nice grave in a large Paris cemetery, his funeral paid for by
the Communist Party.