Monday, March 08, 2004

   "Echoes' Miss Sings"

Lamenting gathered we not by shore the Styx:
Through birdless skies goes flightless apteryx.
Elsewhere will you find her, bookly pyx
And each cassette-cocoon of magic bombyx.
Mention her name in Atlantis, hall & Pnyx;
Our smiles to think of her, sarcophagal onyx.

03 07 04

The Jesus i like is the Jesus who said, "Cut open a stone; I am there", and "Blessed are the peacemakers", and who got mad at the money changers in the temple. He was nuts & he came to a bad end but he deserved better than to be used as a masochistic blood fetish.

03 05 04

"......the War of Anthologies was between two Dons of the 1960s: Don Hall & Don Allen." --Codrescu, op cit

I can see people as they seem to each other, with just that added effort to put my eyes out of focus, but it gives me a headache to look at everything that way all day long: this is the physiological basis of my desire to become a hermit.

wiffle- the result of running a poem through Babelfish & back

The cage of unreality traps what is unreal in us, the Ego. But trapped egos trap their bodies and other bodies in consequence. Thus freedom depends upon liberty, but liberty alone is not freedom.

"What were his thoughts, as in the meagre room
Poured full of waning lilac-silver air,
He strove to cheat the velvet-fall of gloom?
What were his thoughts, as she, her glowing hair
Latticed with trembling pearls, her joyous feet
Buckled and shod with gold,
Trod cream-whitre marble nine good centuries old?"

--"Lucrezia Del Sarto", Audrey Alexandra Brown, from A Dryad in Nanaimo (1931)

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