Cummings Stories

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I always loved the poem by e.e. cummings that begins: “in Just- spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cummings seduced me with his poems when I was in high school, and on into college. He was responsible for...

I imagine it to be the last in queue: a line first, then a diagonal cross that leaves you astonished, amazed that later melts into a familiar line, just a simple little line. almost as knowing as a human, it can hide very well; its siblings s and c are mentioned frequently, and display the same jingle, the same bell sound, but still it remains in hiding, waiting knowing not to come out too frequently, so that it is never...