a poem for today, 15 January 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of five sentences and its image]
You know, this stuff you put four drops in a pot with boiling water and feel like a koala bear goin' wild on drugs.
And even more starkly, there’s a very clear trend in the data, where each step up in waiting time results in a higher risk of death.
It all looks more than a bit scruffy; there is nothing along the road to soothe the eye, no riots of flowers to cheer the heart.
I get off where thought addresses the unthought and articulates itself upon it.
The occasionalist argues that all events are radically independent of one another.
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