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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