Oooh, lovely play with sound and repetition, their motion driving the
modulations. Nice piece, Jill!
Marthe
On Wed, Feb 9, 2011 at 12:50 AM, [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>wrote:
> I am, I am a little, I am a parcel, I am yet
>
> I bought a dollar I caught this morning, I couldn’t do it again
>
> I dreamed this mortal, I grew up bent
>
> I had a picture, I hear a river, I like a ship in storms
>
> I put your leaves aside, I remember the clumsy
>
> I saw the spiders, I struck the board
>
> I that have been, I, too
>
> I wrote in the dark
>
>
> 9 Feb, Adelaide afternoon
>
>
> ________________________
> Jill Jones
>
> www.jilljones.com.au
>
--
Marthe Reed
Director of Creative Writing
Assistant Professor
English Department
UL Lafayette
337-482-5503
[log in to unmask]
http://www.ucs.louisiana.edu/~mxr5675/home.html
http://nous-zot.blogspot.com/
http://www.blackradishbooks.org/Reed.html
<http://www.blackradishbooks.org/Reed.html>*Gaze *at SPD
http://www.spdbooks.org/Producte/9780982573105/gaze.aspx
_____________________________________
The biplane shuttles through the telegraph wires.
The fountain sings the same old song.
At the cab-drivers' bar, the drinks are orange,
but the eyes of the engine drivers are white.
The lady has lost her smile in the woods.
--Philippe Soupault
P* **Please do not print this e-mail unless you really need to.*
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