A palindromic poem for Douglas Hofstadter.
Random # 195 = 366 in base-7; 3 + 6 + 6 = 15 lines
black branches · against blue sky
as i cross concrete · to the parking lot
temperature's mild
but my tender mood
by much is marred
we can't call · our current world
other than outrage · to an orderly mind
the smog of vast lies
fills boardrooms & alleys
& half-hides killers
telescope turned · on the tiny moon
slathered with slaughter · we sleep through blameless
of the bombs built
& tax dollars bent
& that silence bought
"Perhaps one of the novelties of our era is the possibility of instant boredom— like instant coffee— as opposed to a feeling that has to unfold gradually, suffocatingly, over time."
- Geoff Dyer via @aliner
The Rime of the Eldritch Mariner.
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