glahn

Unfortunately, my account must go dormant... stop, please, i feel the same way but if there is ever a time to utter "alas" it is now.

Alas, already

However, I must now get about to the business of copying all my journal entries to the sturdy workings of my hard drive.

but lastly is this, that is, what i've been working on for poetry composition class.
oh god, the rhythm... is it clear...
sonorous syntax...

couldn't it be something like:

the bird sang sweet
it had a beak

but no, i kid, here is the real product:


Verses Upset by Sampling
"Lemonade for a New Age"

Where we would sleep is historical dissection
As I am shown.
The buckshot assembly of Tiz in the world.
Each with a cognitive claim on the trundle bed

Tizzies got carnival glasses,
Their lens served by thin paper discs,
Which despite the side handled
Boast quizzical navels.
Here is the compensatory agreement
On her dead eye

She considers these a fine treasure.
And say so much dont you think?

A wan leaf 45, revolving
With the polyphonic celebration
Of dick nixons inauguration,

Is anchored with quarters
To a re-released Crosley,
Its radio dial,
An approximate coal

Unfolded is a chart of Riding Horse Types
It subjects are honored with
paralytic fits of noble action
Drafted with chromatic anemia
And a confectioners grace

Age haunts is corners,
Woefully mauled
And bearing the scattered support,
Of countless adhesives.

Bundles of flatware lashed
With paint-pen graffiti
Lifted from the catalog of
Every remarkable Northwestern eatery
Which could manage a stray seat

A faultless glass of water;
Wedge of lemon:
Selfless champion of
The Cutlery Ranks
Slid under the blouse for later appraisal

Branded. Bundled. Trundled.

Here with me in this
gypsy tenement will lie,
The sly archivist of the universe.



i dunno
ha, so long,

glahn