That's it. I suppose we must allow the server to trash the ones it doesn't
like!
Apart from that, you have homed in on one of my prime concerns. Thanks!
L
On 10 May 2014 15:51, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> I like the shifts through time & history, Lawrence, that nightmare from
> which we cannot wake I guess.
>
> This is how it came to me, with those words stuck together (where it might
> be you meant line breaks?)...
>
> Doug
> On May 9, 2014, at 11:42 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
>
> > *Story board: Guns are pointing from the tower*
> > Guns are pointing from the tower, barrelsregularly spaced and fired
> > regularly.They are inaccurate. They make a fuss.On hills above the
> > town, some windmills turn,sails torn, mechanisms clattering: poverty;a
> > people most careful with materiel.Galleys slide across the sea, oars
> > movingtogether. Each row works as one; and each maintains the same
> > rhythm as its fellows, like the spokes of a well-factured
> > cartwheel.Inside the tall church tower, stairs narrowas they go
> > higher, but the circle never varies *from* a circle. At every turn and
> > at every level, windows cut through enclosing thinning walls, making
> > slit views of the world, aspects of the increasingly miniature,
> > allowing a weapon to be fired safely.And at twelve and at one; at all
> > the hours through the daylight, those bells ring; and rooks flyout
> > from a clamour; pigeons rise fluttering,reassembling their groups with
> > much bother.Out of the guns out of the tower come bullets, and often
> > one going sideways; or a weakness explodes. One person dead,
> > perhaps.As the guns are fired, they are pulled inside and more emerge.
> > They are dischargingrandomly. It makes no military sense; but it's
> > emblematic, sun reflected off the dull barrels against absorbent
> > whites of the tower. Bang, go the guns and gunsgo in; then they come
> > out again, the samedifferent guns, like tongues on lips, lizards out
> > of rocks. They repeat, like a heart beatingregularly, a water wheel
> > creaking.In the fields women are scything corn. A man from a city is
> > shooting video. The scythes slice together. The combined sound of
> > cutsmade simultaneously reaches us now,on a high hill. Midday sun
> > makes the town wallsbright. Bells echo and double. An aeroplane passes
> > overhead, shiny in white-blue sky. And parachutes drop from it as it
> > turns, one wing shining into the hot thin light,the other indicating
> > Earth below,the span together paired mill sails spun roundthrough part
> > of one revolution. Inside, wooden gears groan and bend a little; the
> > mill stones grind against each other, adding dust which will quickly
> > wear down the biting strength of the population; and the ground food
> > masswhich sustains life pulsates to wood-lined runnels, drips into
> > sacks. A navigator peers. A miller scratches his head. A pilot grins.
> > Trees bend in the wind; more parachutes, dropping, fan out billowing
> > from tips of unseen spokes.Some packages break from them, splintering
> > open. Several women shape their long hair. Brushes turn in their hands
> > as they manipulate the natural covering of their grey heads into
> > social acceptability.A man is blown from his home-made ladder in a
> > sudden wind. He throws out both his arms rotating with the fall. He is
> > excited. Before the man's neck breaks, a donkey looks,to see the
> > source of the scream, still chewing. It lifts one hoof and brings it
> > down againin dried remains of grass. A plough shudders at the top of
> > the field. A ship is coming into land from the far curved horizon. A
> > helicopter gun ship is returning. White birds are wheeling in a
> > darkening sky.
> >
>
> Douglas Barbour
> [log in to unmask]
>
> http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
> http://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
>
> Latest books:
> Continuations & Continuations 2 (with Sheila E Murphy)
> http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=962
> Recording Dates
> (Rubicon Press)
>
> would you
>
> care to be more
> precise about whatever
> it is you are
> saying, I said
>
> Bill Manhire
>
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