"Emptiness changed inside eloquence

Your arm a
  morning in the mind
Even though you came, a
  cross were other enough
You cite yourselves at dawn
You have triumphs
Like a cocoon
Nothing so piercing as a
  thing or a ghost,
    presuming a dim affair
This cocoon may pass
  and dwell, but
    it is angrily other
Stand since you
  feel yourselves
Is it any wonder that a faculty
  is unknown?
The cloud fascinating your womb, your own
  tightening finger
How they afforded you, those common
  crosses!
”I tighten snow,” you
scream
Piercing fashions in strange sun,
  where times subsist
These are happy
In dearth you note
  an ornament, standing beneath
    your thing, dim
      from nature
Passes and fails
Nothing so other
  as an insect or
    a ghost, overcoming an early
      spring
Like a cocoon
Pain can fascinate the
  nerve
See who you are. See what it
  is to be a swaddler.
After you are common, hypothecating, dwelling, usual as an ornament.
Whenever you are special, supposing, coming, circumscribed, modified, limited as these triumphs.
Since you opine yourselves, dripping, sleeping, like limited varieties.
Whenever you reckon yourselves in the evening, spinning, reckoning, between this bear and that bear."

--Robot X, 1481.


Now i have added the picture that is my final word on the Cheney Administration.


Canterbury Rap. (thanx Melanie!)