Category: Romantic love

“Love Poems for Life” (I)

You look happy, said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, I saw a lovely donkey, and it changed my day. Sometimes a glance from someone you admire, said Harlan, changes everything. Yes, said Blurtso, everything. What’s her name? said Harlan. I think it’s Laura, said Blurtso. Laura? said Harlan, like the woman who inspired Petrarch to write sonnets? Petrarch? said Blurtso. Yes, said Harlan, the 14th century Italian poet who wrote two hundred sonnets for a woman named Laura. Was she his wife? said Blurtso. No, said Harlan, he only saw her a dozen times. And he wrote her two hundred sonnets? Yes, said Harlan, just knowing she was alive gave him life. That’s how I feel, said Blurtso, my whole world changed in an instant. And it makes you want to dance? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, I can hardly control my hooves. That’s the miracle of feeling alive, said Harlan. And she gave it to me, said Blurtso, by just being herself.

“Blurtso joins”

Hey, what’s this? A dating site! Maybe I should fill out a profile.

Name: Blurtso
Age: I don’t know, I haven’t cut myself in half to count the rings
Height: 6.2 hands (24.8 inches), but I’m taller standing up
Weight: I don’t know, my scale broke when I stepped on it

Self summary:
I like myself, so if you’re anything like me, you’ll like me too.

What I’m doing with my life:
Filling out a questionnaire.

I’m really good at:
Filling out questionnaires.

The first thing that others notice about me:
That I stepped on their foot.

Favorite books: The Idiot’s Guide to Animal Husbandry

Favorite music: You Can’t Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd (Roger Miller), Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for Seventy-Six Trombones

Favorite movies: Babbling Brook (ambient DVD), Ocean Waves (ambient DVD), Winter Snowfall (ambient DVD), Mister Ed

Favorite food: sustainably grown, organic, local, macrobiotic, paleolithic, ketogenic, activated-charcoal, Mediterranean, Adriatic, North-Atlantic, South-Atlantic, north-beach, south-beach, Laguna-Beach, free-range, super-detox, free-range, alfalfa-fed pumpkins

Things I can’t do without:
My hooves, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, and sometimes my tail

I spend a lot of time thinking about:
What that smell is

On a typical Friday night I am:
Wondering what night of the week it is

The most private thing I’m willing to admit is:
that I’m very private

I’m looking for:

  • the wristwatch I lost
  • a calorie-free pumpkin pie
  • calorie-free whipped cream
  • a roadmap that can be folded
  • a restroom with stalls for donkeys
  • sunglasses that don’t pinch my ears

You should message me if:

  • you need an empty pie tin
  • you found my wristwatch
  • you lost your Wi-fi
  • you have a pumpkin pie
  • you think I’m funny


“Ditto finds kindness”


watch Ditto find kindness on Youtube


“Blurtso longs for Lizzy” (III)


I haven’t seen Lizzy since she was limping across the lawn. And that was two months ago. I wonder what happened to her? I wonder if she quit school, or graduated, or if she was only a tourist who was on campus for a week, and then went home? I suppose she’s out there somewhere. I wonder what she’s doing right now? I wonder if her hoof has healed? It’s hard enough to limp around when the weather is nice, but it’s worse in the snow. I wonder if she’s alone, or with someone special? Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy… and her hoof has healed.

“Bonny serenades her beau”

“The first time…” sang Bonny, “ever I saw your nose… I thought the sun rose… on your ears… and the moon and the stars… were the crown you placed… on the green… and the tasty fields… my love… on the green… and the tasty fields…”


“The first time… ever I grazed with you… I felt the earth… move beneath my hooves… like the trembling heart… deep inside of me… and I knew… you could understand… my love… I knew… you could understand… The first time… ever I napped with you… and heard your snore… harmonize with mine… I felt our song… would fill the farms… and bray… ‘til the end of time… my love… and bray… ‘til the end of time… The first time… ever I saw… your nose… your nose… your nose… your nose…”