| A Thousand Plums |
This one made the online
anthology. (Unfortunately, the photo came out rather blurry
as you can see from this huge blowup I used to transcribe it!) |
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A thousand plums, dark wine, and this perfect summer
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| The Aria of the Mad Poi |
or, before
thesaurus substitution: | The Song of the Mag Po |
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I pleasure not solicit for enterprise and lavish,
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I will not ask for steam and rain
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Entirety diverge abysmally, fulminate and bellow,
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All wander deeply, blow and roar,
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Subsisted summertime snow a consummate throw,
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Were summer snow a perfect throw,
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This one sat nearly finished through most of January
and February into mid-March: |
At which point this one
popped out of the leftover words: |
| Dark Bloom in Winter | why drop out |
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Through my secret breathing
a chill like long winter mornings whispered the dark bloom's story. I cannot see its cold shadow wander across this deep blowing snow as sun and sky dance with the evening wind. You will hear, however, stormy roar turn to a love song as soft as from a child, and for an hour strange dreamless sleep shall fall lightly like perfect gold-leaved summer. |
why drop out
what was life have you become his rainy day off after all? |