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That's got wonderful energy and syncopated flow, Sheila. I keep going back and tangling in knots I delight in - 'turned tunetables/up to snuff', 'a minced invasion all of her own', 'hatching mid-syllabic' ... You put the diva in divaned, Sheila. Thanks. Andrew On 16/11/2007, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Lorraine, you know Lorraine, > she dives onto the woodsmooth platter of a floor, > she makes it hers, she is the one > whom the announcers shore up > into monologic plaintext > sometimes when the simmer of the shortlist dims > and skeins of nothing happen > until there must be something to be said > again about Lorraine. you know Lorraine. > she's shadowy, endowed, imported, > and a minced invasion all her own > of everything she has and is and will be > in our eyes. our eyes are fastened on Lorraine. > and any day now even rain will not be dulled beneath > the glimmer of Lorraine. > she makes the sport worth watching hatching mid-syllabic. > if I were to have invented music > I would have done it with the blessing of > Lorraine's mezzo sop. I would have turned tunetables > up to snuff. I would have watched her paint invisibly > yet visibly that hoped for floor. > I would have divaned out of mood I'm in right now > to watch and listen to her squeak percussion > do its magic on the skittery longwide floor. > the crowd would be a squealing spree for her. > and I would document the score the score > the warbling mint noise of the core > of what plays into this. > the shoreline of the sport. > the whole palatial spree of inner court. > > sheila e. murphy > -- Andrew http://hispirits.blogspot.com/ http://www.inblogs.net/hispirits http://www.flickr.com/photos/aburke/