[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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