tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1152569870621658721.post6351999290876895430..comments2007-09-12T07:21:09.136-07:00Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02688305331874158041noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1152569870621658721.post-46602607751584175652007-09-12T07:21:09.136-07:002007-09-12T07:21:09.136-07:00Is life without an atmosphere. I look<BR/>Time passes - like somebody on a telephone<BR/>it exists quiet and pure as<BR/>more morning chores.<BR/>The world is weary of her past.<BR/><BR/>[[Extra lines from work in Brigit Pegeen Kelly's workshop packet, and possibly elsewhere.]]Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02937071927645420993noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1152569870621658721.post-15756529045811556692007-09-11T11:59:33.330-07:002007-09-11T11:59:33.330-07:00If life without an atmosphere? I look to pass a critical comment, a speaker of English. The world is weary of the past -- I realize that you are wondering why we have decided to fire you, your sick waters & infectuous ease & you could, stricktly speaking, come out with a pontification strictly bland. An era which we would count beats per minute -- imagine a sufferer reposting to the clinic for treatment. I feel like a dog sniffing another dog neither of us wishes to know.<BR/><BR/>(additional lines garnered from The Superior Person's Second Book of Weird and Wondrous Words by Peter Bowler)Amanda Auchterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16419074896100711437noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1152569870621658721.post-17261369737078758702007-08-30T06:14:36.028-07:002007-08-30T06:14:36.028-07:00Is life without an atmosphere? I look: <BR/>Once, I saw the moon.<BR/>The world is weary of the past.<BR/>A child's innocence makes good carrion,<BR/>her sick waters an infectious ease,<BR/>gum and candy wrappers tossed and forgotten.<BR/>In an era in which we could count beats per minute,<BR/>my pink skirt flipped, showing panties.<BR/>I feel like a dog that is sniffing the ass of another dog,<BR/>reading your breakfast, your spealbone, your dreams.naomiharperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07407010203800997008noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1152569870621658721.post-57640039447270366812007-08-28T18:21:13.040-07:002007-08-28T18:21:13.040-07:00In the life without atmosphere I look:<BR/>you were in deep water and the water <BR/>was black.<BR/>The world is weary of the past, <BR/>an orphaned girl ready for feeding--<BR/>her sick waters and infectious ease,<BR/>fist and mouth, red pit,<BR/>holy holy holiness--<BR/>an era in which we count the beats per minute,<BR/>a turkey vulture from the dark.<BR/>I feel like a dog that is sniffing the ass of another dog,<BR/>a haloed field, a train bearing down <BR/>on the gap that split him through.<BR/><BR/><BR/><BR/>Extra lines from work in Brigit Pegeen Kelly's workshop packet by Amanda Auchter, Charlie Clark, Stella Padnos-Shea, and Monica Wendelsswesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04154431637169877328noreply@blogger.com