I'm quite sure that if I visited a blog with a poem on the front page like the one I posted a couple of days ago, I'd think that the blogger was a pretentious twat.

I thought that I had said "The Cavism Blossoms" after one of the three poems I wrote one night. It turns out that I just thought that in my head when I wrote them. But anyway, for the one I just posted, I feel like saying "The Curtis-ism Blossoms", but I wonder if anyone would understand what I meant. I don't know what makes me think in such a strange way, after all it has nothing whatsoever to do with Mr. Curtis, nor am I in the least bit familiar with his work. I pick up a lot on seemingly off-hand remarks that people make, and because of my bizarre memory I tend to form some kind of fractured image of people based on these scraps of information. Which, I fear, is what has happened with Mr. Curtis here.