[lit-ideas] Sitted on tanite's pome - Jumping the gun
- From: "David Wright" <wright@xxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sat, 31 May 2008 18:29:24 -0500
Crude apologies to the repeat reader, but the copywright has expired, so
I'm looking to republish...
----------------
I ~ Wernicke
This ambrosia:
sweet end.
soft- en'd
for mortal tongues,
sounding, surrounding
the idiot's tale,
full of f u r y , yet,
II ~ Thalamus
F i l l e d with the sum of all suns,
the I, that is my eyes,
contains, retains,
s t r a i n e d
with the plenitude,
[I n Sol itude]
[ ( rub those bleeding orbs raw!; ]
[ Cast off those scales! ) ]
)
)
stunted and stained by the sanguineous
sap of substance and, the gods-be-damned, t r u t h !
III ~ the {cerebral} cortex
Dear Lady of truth,
of all my love:
You deceive!
Against civility, swearing fidelity,
your cranberry hands turn
his story-book page,
writ full with the wrath of wisdom.
affectionately your servant,
--
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