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It's moon perfect now David. Not the last thing I'll ever see either. Takes a few reads to get into it. Not sure I'm all there yet. Beguiling. Bill > On 29 Oct 2013, at 5:42 pm, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > Bill - it's headache transposing text from one bundle of software to > another> oh for the simplicities of ink. Anyhow, after much deliberation, > this one OUGHT to come out right (it has even been back to that simple land > of plain text) I have, though, abandoned all italics (!): > > About It > > At first there was a slight problem with a bendy tape. > It might have been in metric. Or a half-truth in inches. > > I had bought a satellite box, second-hand. I like to peer > into the mundane, like a ball, surfing regional news shows > > because it reminds me of hotels. Those crumbling cliffs > near Cromer, the drifting lists of Munroes, a postponement > > (down to seeping sewage) of a County Flower Show. > I licked a stamp for old times’ sake and thought of islands shrinking > > and a strange e-mail on metrics. Oh the eternal anonymity > of three-star rooms. There must have been a map once > > that fit went a voice on the street, climbing my peep-eye > window and so the camera panned from the back of my head > > and the clothes that didn’t quite, taking in the skies, the streets, > the farms, the trees, like a greedy sucking engine > > looping the continents. I saw huge calendars overthrown > like statuary; I saw a scarecrow taller than the moon. > > I saw the size of it was somewhere, like a pavement, > or the story of the last thing you’ll ever see. > > >> On 29 October 2013 02:52, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote: >> >> It's still all over the place, David except a space now appears betwen >> 'Or' and 'a'. What's with the asterisks? Otherwise, it's loopily >> interesting. >> >> Bill >> >>>> On 29 Oct 2013, at 11:54 am, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]> >>> wrote: >>> >>> sorry for a repeated posting. Pasting from Word to jiscymail always seems >>> to involve distortions. >>> >>> >>> >>> About It >>> >>> >>> At first there was a slight problem with bendy tape. >>> >>> It might have been in metric. Or a half-truth in inches. >>> >>> >>> I had bought a satellite box, second-hand. I like to peer >>> >>> into the mundane, like a ball,surfing regional news >>> >>> >>> because:it reminds me of hotels. Those *crumbling cliffs* >>> >>> *near Cromer*, the *shifting lists of Munros*, a *postponement* >>> >>> * >>> * >>> >>> (the gift of seeping sewage) of a* County Flower Show*. >>> >>> I licked a stamp for old times’ sake and thought of islands shrinking >>> >>> >>> and a strange e-mail on metrics. Oh the eternal anonymity >>> of three-star rooms. *There must have beena map once >>> * >>> >>> * >>> * >>> >>> *that fit* went a voice on the street, climbing my peephole >>> window and so a camera panned from the back of my head >>> >>> >>> and the clothes that didn’t quite, taking in the skies, the streets, >>> the farms, the trees, like a greedy sucking engine >>> >>> >>> looping the continents. I saw huge calendars overthrown >>> like statuary; I saw a scarecrow taller than the moon. >>> >>> >>> And knew the size of it was somewhere, like a pavement, >>> or the story of the last thing you’ll ever see. >>> >>> PoetryEtc ([log in to unmask]) >>> >>> >>> On 29 October 2013 00:10, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask] >>> wrote: >>> >>>> About It >>>> >>>> >>>> At first there was a slight problem with bendy tape. >>>> >>>> It might have been in metric. Ora half-truth in inches. >>>> >>>> >>>> I had bought a satellite box, second-hand. I like to peer >>>> >>>> into the mundane, like a ball,surfing regional news >>>> >>>> >>>> because:it reminds me of hotels. Those *crumblingcliffs* >>>> >>>> *near Cromer*, the *shifting lists of Munros*, a *postponement* >>>> >>>> * >>>> * >>>> >>>> (the gift of seeping sewage) of a* County Flower Show*. >>>> >>>> I licked a stamp for old times’ sake and thought of islands shrinking >>>> >>>> >>>> and a strange e-mail on metrics. Oh the eternal anonymity >>>> of three-star rooms. *There must have beena map once >>>> * >>>> >>>> * >>>> * >>>> >>>> *that fit* went a voice on the street, climbing my peephole >>>> window and so a camera panned from the back of my head >>>> >>>> >>>> and the clothes that didn’t quite, taking in the skies, the streets, >>>> the farms, the trees, like a greedy sucking engine >>>> >>>> >>>> looping the continents. I saw huge calendars overthrown >>>> like statuary; I saw a scarecrow taller than the moon. >>>> >>>> >>>> And knew the size of it was somewhere, like a pavement, >>>> or the story of the last thing you’ll ever see. >>>> >>>> >>>> -- >>>> David Joseph Bircumshaw >>>> ** >>>> Website and A Chide's Alphabet >>>> http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk >>>> The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html >>>> Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw >>>> twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave >>>> blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/ >>>> Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com >>> >>> >>> >>> -- >>> David Joseph Bircumshaw >>> ** >>> Website and A Chide's Alphabet >>> http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk >>> The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html >>> Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw >>> twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave >>> blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/ >>> Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com > > > > -- > David Joseph Bircumshaw > ** > Website and A Chide's Alphabet > http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk > The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html > Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw > twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave > blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/ > Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com >