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needles needling needlessly with little thread... or much of anything else...

(foolish dribbles to be written at uncertain times, on an irregular basis, from uncertain sections of the ever expending universe, and from whatever dimension I-We-Us-Them might find ourselves/ myself in …)

Saturday, September 03, 2005

A POEM BY E.E. CUMMINGS 



33

emptied.hills.listen.
,not,alive,trees,dream(
ev:ery:wheres:ex:tend:ing:hush

)
andDark
IshbusY
ing-roundly-dis

tinct;chuck
lings,laced
ar:e,by(

fleet&panelike&frailties
!throughwhich!brittlest!whitewhom!
f
 loat?)
          r
            hythms


(copied from the collection e.e. cummings complete poems 1913 – 1962 page 416)
Posted by: François Pointeau / 08:10
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