An excerpt from an interview with Anna K., actress

“I hate smoking, especially Lucky Strikes.
And I hate kissing – or worse –, especially old lechers like [name omitted], my so-called romantic partner in my most recent film.
Ha!
Both make me vomit, and that’s not a good thing to do in front of the camera.”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Disclaimer
Some names have been shortened or suppressed to avoid legal issues.

Witticism

Actors are supposed to act like normal people, but more often than not it's the other way round.

– Leonard Blumfeld

Throwing sand into the wind

She went to the sandy beach to throw sand into the wind.
She threw sand.
She threw more sand.
She kept throwing sand.
Into the wind, which was sometimes stronger
and sometimes milder
and sometimes blew the sand into her face.

"Why are you doing this?" a voice said.
"It's a statement."
"What kind of a statement?"
"It's a concept."
"What kind of a concept?"
"It's art."
"But there's no-one around to watch it."
"That's part of the concept."
"I see."
"Plus there's always the universe and eternity."

– Leonard Blumfeld ((c) 2015)

About A. H.

What a nasty, greasy character to have ignited this hellish chapter in the history of mankind.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Written around the words greasy, hellish and ignite from 3WW.

Note
No need to explain who this refers to. At least I should hope so.

My jewelry is missing

My jewelry is missing … he wouldn’t have sold it … or would he?

Endless GIF loop created from a scene from Lost Highway by David Lynch. Starring Patricia Arquette.

Doggone it

I've got the blues a-
gain. It is infectious, the
meanness of this world.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Notes
Not really needed. Could give you a long list of things that are wrong with this world – if you insist.

Today’s misread haiku

So it was the mush-
room’s black underpants that made
me smile and write this.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Note
Sometimes misreading something results in something more interesting than the intended word. Anyway, what I was supposed to read was “of the mushroom’s black underpleats” in Amy Newman’s poem Sylvia Plath Is in Paris with a Balloon on a Long String. That’s rather stating the obvious. We all know that mushrooms tend to be dark on the underside, even though it might not occur to just anyone to call that “black underpleats”. But a mushroom with black underpants – now that’s something that makes a leap as prescribed for poetry by Robert Bly.

A preposterous situation haiku

Supporting the weight
of the clouds. You’ve been doing
it for years, my girl.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Note
If there’s one kind of poetry I don’t like it’s the type that attempts to blow up a perfectly normal situation into something “poetic” (and subsequently usually asking rhetorical questions along the lines of “why oh why is this happening to oh so sensitive poor poor me”). Sometimes I picture these poems hitting their author in the face like a balloon burst from overinflation with all that fake meaning.

Back when we were hunters and gatherers

From the soon to be released book Diary of a turtle.

The Dr. Who haiku

Buzz. “Who is it?” “Who?”
“Doctor who? What do you want?”
“Ah, Dr. Woo! Nín hăo!”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Notes
The fun(ny)/weird haiku keep coming.
Short as usual and mercilessly.
Again with dialog. Against the rules.
(Nín hăo = hello in Chinese.)