The language of poets. A Found Poem for essunwin.

[tectak]

By Ron! I tried to hold the plath along a cold, cole ridge
But heaney had I donne a hat,
chaucer-shaped , cisneros laugh, but cummings soon
I found dry den.

Dy lan I lay on eliot, gin sberg on ice, will make us graves;
a dick a bob, hardy a hecht,
so hop kin, hughes! Re joyce or kip; Ling kom on ya kaa lamb.
(Larkin about, a lear law renced.)

Le on 'ard beds, we long fellows, le wis a locke or milli-gan?
Mil ton is moore, or more is less,
we nash and nesbitt, peacock proud to pick 'ard in the poe.
Pollocks! That’s just your opinsky!

Give the pope a pound or pugh; sext on shakes, speares fly swift.
She lley to sit well, tenny son,
you’ll find tol kien up dike… then hek, he’s wilde.
Will I am surely words worth…so you can just zukovsky.

Tectak
2014

[ellajam]

"Pollocks! That’s just your opinsky!"

[Erthona]

Sans Keats I'm fine, but blank on blake, you need another line. For shame!

dale


paul is dead

[tectak]

Sans Keats I'm fine, but blank on blake, you need another line. For shame!

dale


paul is dead

This is such a precision piece I had to omit a cast of thousands....who did you say I missed? Oh yes...I've heard of them,too.
Blest,
Tom

[Erthona]

...well I'm glad you've heard of Blake...that's nice! OK, put your clothes on and go play, but in the front yard; the big boys are out back.

dale the motherly



paul is dead