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
>
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