Saturday, July 07, 2007

Motion

By brown the feelings will propound and melt
The upper lobes while light deceives the sense
Into the form of sound. Opinion undulates
The air and moves in denim sways, while wash
Of clay regurgitates. The wood is moved,
The dial switched, and what was far removed
Improves itself in floods of force:

In light absorbed we take
Our telephonic course.

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