new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block
They were right about these things, the Old Masters. The loose belts in Paradise thing, that is.(Makes the breathing easier.)And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced...
I've heard a light tincture of opium helps to loosen things when the going gets heavy.
Now it can be told. The stately pleasure dome was actually the glorified enclosure of a water closet. (And as we know, those confined private precincts -- like poetic phantasy itself, for that matter -- are always stateless.)
They were right about these things, the Old Masters. The loose belts in Paradise thing, that is.
ReplyDelete(Makes the breathing easier.)
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced...
I've heard a light tincture of opium helps to loosen things when the going gets heavy.
ReplyDeleteNow it can be told. The stately pleasure dome was actually the glorified enclosure of a water closet. (And as we know, those confined private precincts -- like poetic phantasy itself, for that matter -- are always stateless.)
ReplyDelete