a poem, by John Kinsella and myself; my add-on bears an almost plausible
connection to 'religious'?: a deliberate aside, kind of after-mutter
(JK ends "with slippage")
(there's another pseudoreligious bit in my new pamphlet, _Girls At
Trusion_, the bit beginning "Nor second he..."
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Thu, 6 Nov 1997 20:38:39 -0500 (EST)
From: Keston Sutherland <[log in to unmask]>
To: John Kinsella <[log in to unmask]>
Subject: Annuity Replete (fwd)
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 19:41:54 -0800 (PST)
From: John Kinsella <[log in to unmask]>
To: Keston Sutherland <[log in to unmask]>
Subject: Annuity Replete
Annuity Replete
aka abvolution subrogating
excess exotica like the crane of peace
in origami, irony syncopating
against waspish history, Colin Clout
out on a country lane, dressed in tweed,
thinking hard about the latest TLS,
hark, hark, caterwauling epanalepsis,
hark, hark / polyphonic bark, twice
bitten skylark shy about checkered hedges -
this is what landscape's all about! So count
the cadges, trustees & receiverships,
bulls out of the South hacking
peptic madrigals; take the tart to town
on a Saturday night O Colin Clout,
take take take until the music bursts
your heart - anamnestic & anaptotic,
donor talk hot with slippage
get hungry so we stalled at a motel
next there was this gallant advantage
gazing along to hear it you will you just prick
or you won't and save yourself either
so each return shares a dip in the wrong aspect-rate of everyday
she took my cases, not essentially
use another for another stretch of biding headlights
getting as if dusk where more virtually not to do, what
gagged spick by and to money biro-existentia
god dies for you and this is how you repay him
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