Date:         Sat, 13 Jan 1996 22:44:18 EST
From: "I, teop on" <mbarker@MIT.EDU>
Subject:      FILLER: Something Glistens In The Moonlight
Comments: To: the sunset of words <writers@Mitvma.mit.edu>

hi, bill.  shall we dance, cha-cha-cha?

[a bit of something, but my own...]

Something Glistens In The Moonlight

the lake of winds, reflecting nothing, still
lies whispering beneath the unfeeling sky.  What
terror!  to rise and fly on unseen skis triumphant,
towed across the wakes of passing ships, storm tossed,
yet skimming, a wild glide over the spewing depths to

fall, perhaps?  into what abnormal monstrous
mouths, driven by the strangeness of unknown fantastic
brains to blow and breach the unceasing hot winds of
words?  what if those twisted muses should cease to
expire, and instead, inspire?  should we perspire?

still, the lake of winds, reflecting nothing,
whispers a siren call beneath the unfeeling sky.  What
feeling!  to slowly work the visible shapes recalcitrant,
to reach out                                    to rise
             and part the waters, to force self
             above the force of Newton's apple.

Charon?
Start your damned motorboat, for I would ski today!
on word and up word.
I write.
I am.

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