This week I left Twitter. The main reason is: everything that Elon Musk himself tweets, like a landlord who keeps letting himself in to share his horrible opinions.
But I mostly enjoyed my time on Twitter, not least because it was a place where people talked about literature in a light-hearted way — a welcome alternative to the academic prose some of us were supposed to be writing. It was also a great pinboard for stray thoughts and odd moments. So I thought I’d use this week’s post to save a few.
There were, for example, the tweets that accidentally sounded like avant-garde poetry:
There were the poems that accidentally sounded like pop songs:
There were the found poems:
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