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When he read the study,
Pavlov’s dog felt pretty used,
actually.
What he’d believed to be a doting gaze,
Had simply been experimental observation.
What he’d mistaken for love,
Just the scientific method.
Stinging with betrayal,
He picked up the phone,
Dialled Ivan Petrovich
And waited
Heart breaking as he salivated
with every “ring ring.”
Hello everyone,
Thanks for reading - just a poem this time, if you’d like to listen to it, the audio is embedded under the picture.
As for me, I’m still gearing up for the london run of my ten-show retrospective in October (Tickets Here) and chipping away in the Sound Heap Podcast mines (Listen Here). Actually, I’m really loving the episodes we’re starting this series with, they’re funny in a pleasingly strange and woozy way, and everyone in them has put in such great performances, and made-up such brilliant nonsense of the back of my nonsense. And Ed Morrish’s editing and music choices have been particularly *chef’s kiss*. I’d say if you haven’t listened before, then this new episode Rememberama-Rama is a great place to start. New episode coming on Monday. I think I’ll do a newsletter in the near future about the process of putting Sound Heap together.
Aaaand… that’s it I think. Please come to John-Luke-A-Palooza if you can, I think it’s going to be really special, and it will be the last chance to see several of the shows for the foreseeable.
Take care of yourselves,
Luke
Reminds me of James Tate, the best way
I read this right after waking up for the morning and was not physically prepared for the amount of laughter prompted by the last line.