Tim Singleton

“There’s man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet.”

― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

The pause and preen of a hummingbird, and then the explosion back into its hummingbird self.

Just saw Paul Revere galloping through the streets of Washington DC screaming out a warning to its citizens, "The Red Coats are coming! The Red Coats are coming...." after King Bozo's morning bloviation.

Watching America go nuts over the Cold Play & ignore daily atrocities this very country is participant in, well, that’s all anyone needs to know about US right now. We have transformed into a cohort of monsters supporting opportunist & powerhungry madmen. America, get your head out of Trump’s ass.

humidity and heat—
quiet as their shadows, crows
rising from a cornfield

In Hate we trust.

Wanting the same kind of @bsky.app attention as the catbird, a Carolina wren lands under my chair to chirp his case. A mocking bird takes them all on. Cooler air prevails, today, and the birds are on it.

That sounds a conversation not to miss, you and Abbott. Hopefully, I won't. And then there's the notion of a mystery writer casually walking the history of all their murders through the TSA, ho-hum, distracting away with jewelry. #fancydangerous

Summer suet feeder and the catbird meows and meows to keep all away. Or maybe it is just the feral joy of having this other personality inside a cage of feathers. Meow. Meow. It's a noisy boast, but the suet and the morning seem to be his, a slant of sun pointing this out.

Is it OK to read Infinite Jest in public? Why the internet hates ‘performative reading’ Posts mocking strangers for cracking open classics have become popular. So where are we supposed to read them?

Oh, good grief. "Reading in public – not cool. Or at least “performative reading”, as it’s been dubbed on social media, is worthy of ridicule." www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle...

Weatherchange and birdsong through the open windows.

The way an oscillating fan bullies the humidity this way, then that, this way, then that.

Love that, words carry a fragrance.

No one wins a holy war. All the gods know this.

Peace is such harder work than war. Leaders always cave to war, other people’s children and all.

Words can turn into poems themselves when a within word steps into view: colLABoration.

The air is full of insect hatches. A cloud of termites, perhaps, visits and moves along (am working at an outside table). How slight they are and yet they take on forests. Such a slow and clumsy energy at the moment. How so very many have set out, how few might survive this burst into the world.

There’s a pond out back with so many frogs. And they keep the chatter going, it’s like gossip screaming, but no meaning, all excitement and earnestness, but just the dark presence of sound/being. God, I hope the Universe can hear this over the constant sound of humans murdering each other.

‘Shakespeare would be writing for games today’: Cannes’ first video game Lili is a retelling of Macbeth Translocating the Scottish play to Iran with help from the RSC, iNK Stories’ version focuses on a Lady Macbeth contending with an oppressive surveillance state

Here's a thought: "Here's a thought: "Shakespeare would be writing for games today."

Keep an open mind and read more in the link.

www.theguardian.com/games/2025/m...

'Accidentally' fell into Donna Tartt's Secret History (was one of the myriad things within arms reach when I wanted to read anything but another student paper). Smitten and may have to move straight into and through the other two.

These times we are in. All you need to know to understand: Spurs win something (17th place). Wondering if had could been uglier. Probably not.

‘We Have to Really Rethink the Purpose of Education’ Podcast Episode · The Ezra Klein Show · 05/13/2025 · 1h 8m

Lots to unpack here.

podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/t...

Lots of rain to listen to today. I'll volunteer. It's gentle for the moment, so the voice is a song of childhood afternoons and looking up from some silly, yet engaging adventure book to project more of the imagined onto a screen of out-the-window gray.

Yeah, this:

Looking up, a halo of buzzards circling in.

Could have/ought to have… listened to the wind all day.

so close to its shadow
the black snake
almost hiding

Meanwhile black snake at a window sent the cats into ancient versions of themselves. They still jitter, these hours later. What? Just a shadow without a body. It’s ok. It is. All the snake can do is shadow. And slither.

Might have reached my quota of human interaction for the year already. People suck like mosquitoes. Thunk.

The hawk all those crows are talking about. Can't even chill. Out on a limb and wanting nothing but still. The crows, from their distance, all noisy and mosey along. The hawk seems proud to be an annoyance, just present and hawkish, quiet and hardly flustered.