At 06:45 AM June 10, 2008 my friend and fellow tweeter @jacsongs tweeted:
Dictatorship in exile. Dream of the day. Loneliest room in the mental crevices. What does the fog have to teach?
I was going to walk in the fog the weatherman forecasted for that morning. But the fog never came. In a flow of free associated tweets, answers came. I just took dictation.
The fog teaches you to walk softly & carry a crooked walking stick. The fog teaches you to listen for rainbows. It teaches loom.
Contra Heraklitos, the fog teaches the same river, twice. It teaches Crow Law. Fog teaches Probability & Quantum Origami (How to fold light) & haruspicy.
The fog teaches you how to walk like the blind, by the squint of your pineal eye. The fog teaches your face how to go to heaven without you.
The fog teaches you how to distance waltz with ghosts.
The fog teaches that “foxes have dens” but you have damp clover to lie in. Fog teaches poets prosody, & the prosaic poetry.
Fog teaches your nose how to read the testaments of the ants in the original Pismire. It teaches you to fall prey to the Tigers of Wrath & how to play hooky from the Horses of Instruction.
The fog teaches dim prospects good, bright futures bad. It teaches you to be unpunctual, so that you always arrive in the nick of time.