SiR: the context is in the tone...
this train has that... a big... mEATy... ENGINE...
a 'fierce-throated beauty! ' and that can pull through
mordant trials, up tracks that contend sacred cast, and
...
I drove to the mall today,
the only place to buy
razor blades, and contended
with a heap of madness.
...
The Xmas clan,
a shrinking contingent
of Santa's friends,
contended for singular status,
...
Oh the moon in its invidious
state of affair as I grapple
with my slumber's adamant bee-
queathal, and, as it stings
...
Bizarre how canny the uncanny;
they paint their house white
but with black paint: irony...
flagrance for a heated fight!
...
Years a subject of deprivation's
vocation - talent to deny -
shall I speak of distant design
beyond this adamant 'NOW, ' where,
...
Pontificate stealthy and ''wise? ''
the words glossed with sweet style.
Stand in the light of a dark-world's
candle, alight at both ends.
...
+
siR ... i bathe twice a day and never pray
and my depravity is naught but a cougar kill
...
And today again - my mean
Conviviality - How I show affection
With acrimony.
...
(hidden benediction)
Ostensibly gaunt,
the Northside harbor's surprise,
...
The voluptuous dance of a lady
can be seen at this site –
various steps:
jigs, twists, plentiful pirouettes
...
Many are flying south...
migration is suitable for many/
many engage due to/for money
riddles don't annoy and impunity
...
]]]
Nicky writes in restaurants while waiting
for her check, sending thoughts to her pen
...
Oh yes, Coraopolis ... curious old town,
once wore a fine suit ... white shirt ...
tie, it was all so ... 'suitable'.... Well ...
that was until assumed harmonies
...
who can fathom deceit with no sin
if they've known naught, but a din?
Can one see beyond the pious spew
and glean that sacred, no evil view?
...
My Emily Dickson Encomium
SiR: the context is in the tone...
this train has that... a big... mEATy... ENGINE...
a 'fierce-throated beauty! ' and that can pull through
mordant trials, up tracks that contend sacred cast, and
with a string o' cars n' coaches, myriad in nature.
i...
i like to see it lap the miles
and lick the valleys up
and stop to feed itself at tanks,
and then - prodigious - step
around a pile of mountains,
and supercilious peer
in shanties, by the sides of roads.
And then, a quarry pare
to fit its ribs
and crawl between
complaining all the while
in horrid - hooting stanza -
then...
chase itself down hill
and neigheee like Boanerges.
And prompter than a Star
STOP! docile... omnipotent...
at it's own stable door.
THIS train is long - true - but
full of a mystical candy,
exclusive portions too sweet
to taste, for the negligible palates, o'...
mere... mortal... men....
._.