not so sure
about the
I doubt if it ends. A blog
posting sometimes prefig-
ures, sometimes recalls an
experience extruded by met-
aphor. This morning Thorny,
my English Cocker, exuber-
ant to be feeling swell af-
ter a long run in a frosty
meadow, careened into my
desk and demolished a clas-
sic lamp from Artemide, one
of two from the year of its
release. A predecessor of
his, Robbie, munched a first
edition of Alexander Pope.
Pillage doesn't have a la-
tent punctuation, but among
the options, the full stop
is the last one imaginable.
Still, the picture makes a
point. It can be amusing.
'They're all there. Down below. Hear them romping a-
round? They're prehistoric. Because, as I told you,
to me, billiards ..'
Raymond Queneau
Zazie dans le métro
Barbara Wright, translation
Penguin, 1960©
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