HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: fsjes3@ix.acf-lab.alaska.edu (Jacob E Schuetze)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Wind
Date: 6 Oct 92 22:55:16 GMT
Article-I.D.: raven.1992Oct6.225516.21616
Organization: University of Alaska Computer Network

I was born with the sunrise
Born in the chill of the North
I grew with the day
Moving as I grew stronger and fiercer
I touch the heavens
The earth feels me like a lover's breath on her neck
I help make mountains who they are
I am a sculptor
People shiver and shake at my touch
My touch is a lover's 
It is a child's hand
It is the claws of an enraged beast
Some meet me with excitement
Some with annoyance
Some with fear and pain
I whisper through the souls of the strong and the weak
I can be born in a human heart
Or come there as what I am, to work my magic
My voice is everywhere
I am heard inside and out
Heard by the deaf and the hearing alike
I am light and spry
I play with the water and the trees
I can tear the life from a man
But I give life to those who use me
I bring change and the new
My breath is felt by all
I am to be feared
And to be loved
I simply exist
I am
Wind


Same as above, please reply either here or privately to  
fsjes3@camelot.acf-lab.alaska.edu
    Thanks, Jacob Schuetze  University of Alaska, Fairbanks
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: susanc@helix.nih.gov (Susan Chacko)
Subject: unemployment
Organization: National Institutes of Health, Bethesda
Date: Sat, 26 Sep 1992 21:22:22 GMT


confucius once said

he who is broke knows his friends
and v.v.
being out of work for  13 months is an invigorating and exciting educational
experience.

nay,

a trip.

it gets u thru the the depths of depression into the hallowed worlds of a
non-existent existence.

and 
it makes you wonder

where are all the people?
where have they all gone?

yet

you are a richer person 
because 
you know.

so fuck the rest of the world
all i need is a space 
where i can be buried
without hurting anyone alse
including the weeds.



......................................
This was posted for a friend without net access. Comments will be forwarded.
--
Bldg 2, Rm 316, NIDDK, NIH, Bethesda, MD 20892
(301) 496-4295 (off)
(301) 496-0201 (fax)
From: 2ftolonger@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: He is sitting, by the window
Date: 1 Oct 92 21:07:25 CDT
Organization: University of Kansas Academic Computing Services

Okay, so I know we are *all* getting tired of my love poems, and so am I.  But
I seem to have hit a "poet's block", because this is all I've gotten in awhile.
I know it needs help, so please comment and criticize!!
(P.S. This is also my first attempt from the *other* side of the picture.)



He is sitting, by the window,
Waiting for her to come home.
She is working, at the school,
Struggling for a youth who does not understand numbers.
For the student, she will give
And urge and encourage and support,
Because it is numbers she understands most
And the satisfaction of sharing that knowledge,
The warmth she wants to feel most.
He sits by the window, waiting for her,
While the roses on the table begin to wilt.

--AKA
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angela Kathleen Ayers          |  "Every good mathematician is
2ftolonger                     |   also something of a poet"
@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu (Internet) |
@UKANVAX  (BITNET)             |  --I forgot who, but I'll look it up
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: westphal@iscnvx.lmsc.lockheed.com (Dorothy Westphal)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Where and how to publish?
Date: 5 Oct 92 21:01:26 GMT
Organization: Lockheed Missiles and Space Co.

In article <moonbeam.718248277@vincent1.iastate.edu> moonbeam@iastate.edu (Timothy J Cockerham) writes:
>He asked (relatively) simple question, and got a stunningly bizarre answer.
>However, it was fun to read...
>
>Try...
>	The 1992 Poet's Market
>		'Where & how to publish your poetry'
>
>It tells you where to try to send all kinds of poetry. How much they offer,
>how they respond, what they are looking for, and where they are... along 
>with other junk about them.
>	$19.95 in the U.S. $26.95 in Canada. Look in Walden Books, B. Dalton,
>or your very own local book store...
> 
Or less at Crown Books (10 or 15 % less?)



-- 
Dorothy Westphal, Sunnyvale, Calif. % Just when things are going your way...%
westphal@iscnvx.lmsc.lockheed.com   %               they get even better!   %
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mstringh@ent1.ent.ncsu.edu (Mike Stringham)
Subject: ANOTHER VIEW OF THINGS
Originator: mstringh@ent1.ent.ncsu.edu
Organization: Dept. of Entomology - NCSU, Raleigh, NC
Distribution: na
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 1992 20:54:53 GMT

Here's a poem I wrote in response to my 10 year old daughter's
introduction to the realities of tupperware teachers.  No offense
intended for those of you out there who teach unless of course you have
tupperware minds and amway souls.  In that case, please consider another
profession.

ANOTHER VIEW OF THINGS

Teacher,
if only you stepped outside the lines,
stood (forbidden) like God
or some space-time traveller
in the plane of Saturn's orbit
and looked back with magic eyes
that tamed the fiery Sun
and set the planets coming round
more or less in line
each at relative size,
you might see how it comes to pass
that Mercury rides the Sun.

                    -- Mike Stringham

Taking the risk of flames...all C&C welcome. 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: rbear@inferno.uoregon.edu (Richard Bear)
Subject: Envoi
Organization: University of Oregon Network Services
X-Newsreader: Tin 1.1 PL5
Date: Wed, 7 Oct 92 04:08:57 GMT


Come, the wide waters roll, and the fishermen
roll their nets and go to the sun, to the broad 
boats, where light, dancing, leafs boats 
bright in gold, and gulls cross, crying, 
the scene, and cross again, complaining. Come: 
the fish, deep-dwelling, await. And waves 
rise foaming, and the long swells' song 
breaks like bread, or prayer, on the blood's tide; 
all here oar-raised, green-psalmed, time-stopped 
and the soul-strewn hulls gull-followed and gold-leaped, 
arriving, see God's sung gifts named and given
into hands, working the nets, pull! And make 
all things new, as the gulls ask alms, and the fish, 
lashing, gape their salt breath out, and lie 
still, communing. The wine-dark seas pass under, 
and the heavy boats swing round, and the men roll 
their nets and go, numb-handed, backs bent, harbor bound, 
gift-laden, home: where light, fast fading, locks 
land in gold, and gulls cross, crying, 
the scene, and cross again, rejoicing. 


rbear

chiao for a bit; i work a 40 hour week, feeding five, and this term
i'm carrying six grad hours. doing editions of Defence of Poesie and
Pamphilia to Amphilanthus; what a grind.

ad astra per aspera.
From: renoir@picasso.ocis.temple.edu (Khemdut Purang)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: fall
Date: 3 Oct 92 01:39:38 GMT
Organization: Temple University
X-Newsreader: Tin 1.1 PL5






			windswept streets
			leaf playgrounds
			sun the color of warmth
			fall is here
From: sharon@netlabs.com (Sharon Hopkins)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Not A Love Sonnet
Date: 28 Sep 92 04:16:34 GMT
Organization: NetLabs, Inc.
Originator: sharon@doctor.netlabs.com


    Not A Love Sonnet

    I watch you in the slowly changing light,
    as eyes turn brown from gold (though ever green).
    I watch your smile crinkle, shift and fade,
    and watch your hands move (wishing over skin,
    my skin, they moved).  Perhaps you're not so thin
    as once you were -- but still my eyes have strayed
    to watch your body (wishing over mine).
    I watch the curling hairs around your ear,
    the back of neck, -- the play of muscles there,
    as slow you move (or quick).  My eyes are tuned
    for every motion, weaving light and air
    (and something magic: heat, and not-quite-fear)
    to make a music eyes and skin can hear:
    that music makes my world, if just tonight.


--Sharon Hopkins
  sharon@netlabs.com
  Sept. 27, 1992
From: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: I need to get a life...!
Date: 28 Sep 92 21:29:22 GMT
Article-I.D.: Eagle.009614C2.DA5AE7C0
Reply-To: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Organization: MSU




I need to get a life,
Without the bullshit
Or all the hipe.
Get a life with another
Who will love me,
Yet not be my mother.
She will become to me
All the happiness I need,
Without being a bothersome flea.



ARRRRRRGGGGGG!!!!!!!!

C&C welcome.....



------------------------------------------------------
We are all toast in the dryer. | Have a drink on me!
------------------------------------------------------
	|\  /| |---|  |--\  |--\  -----  |\      |
	| \/ | |   |  |  /  |  /    |    |  \    |
	|    | |   |  |  \  |  \    |    |  /    |
	|    | |---|        |--/  -----  |/      *
From: sharon@netlabs.com (Sharon Hopkins)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Not A Love Sonnet
Date: 28 Sep 92 04:20:09 GMT
Organization: NetLabs, Inc.
Originator: sharon@ruler.netlabs.com


    Not A Love Sonnet

    I watch you in the slowly changing light,
    as eyes turn brown from gold (though ever green).
    I watch your smile crinkle, shift and fade,
    and watch your hands move (wishing over skin,
    my skin, they moved).  Perhaps you're not so thin
    as once you were -- but still my eyes have strayed
    to watch your body (wishing over mine).
    I watch the curling hairs around your ear,
    the back of neck, -- the play of muscles there,
    as slow you move (or quick).  My eyes are tuned
    for every motion, weaving light and air
    (and something magic: heat, and not-quite-fear)
    to make a music eyes and skin can hear:
    that music makes my world, if just tonight.


--Sharon Hopkins
  sharon@netlabs.com
  Sept. 27, 1992
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: espen.aarseth@hf.uib.no (Espen Aarseth)
Subject: Sonnet no. 13
Followup-To: rec.arts.poems
Organization: University of Bergen
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 92 10:55:51 GMT


                  XIII

I would not tell thee on a winther's day
That thou art brighter than the setting sun;
Nor would I in you see fair Daphne, say
Or any of that crowd, save pr'haps for fun.
Sometime you do remind me of a .. thing
A thing.. -a thing whose name escapes me now -
Some day thou wilt among the Angels sing
But they might order you to keep it low.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's night?
Your voice is like some insect's serenade
Thy steps so very like an elephant's might,
My five and country senses they invade. ; -
   I find in thee the things no others see
   'Cause if they did, then they would pity me.
From: RMacMichael@cup.portal.com (Ryan - MacMichael)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Where and how to publish?
Date: Sun,  4 Oct 92 21:37:35 PDT
Organization: The Portal System (TM)
  <1992Oct4.235638.18880@wam.umd.edu>

If you are interested in getting your poetry put in a magazine but are
not worried about money -- leave me e-mail and I'll send you some details
(and a sample issue if you wish) about/of STANZA.


... Ryan MacMichael, RAMOP
rmacmichael@cup.portal.com
GEnie -- R.MACMICHAEL
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: cdl0915@ritvax.isc.rit.edu (Christian Dylan Losinger)
Subject: Re: High School Love
Reply-To: cdl0915@ritvax.isc.rit.edu
Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology
Date: Tue, 6 Oct 1992 12:33:13 GMT

In article <1992Oct2.224204.10207@doug.cae.wisc.edu>, mccullou@cae.wisc.edu (Mark McCullough) writes:
>Key of G??????  That is not the proper key for that poem/song.  Try
>a different key, such as a flat key or a minor key.  Key of G tends
>to be too friendly a key.

	Yes, G. Two lines in Gmaj, two lines in Emin. I guess you could say
it's in Emin, but I'm sick of Emin.

	And you must sing it monotone, quickly, childlike with a bit of puzzled
innocent misunderstanding...:b


        --------------------------------------------------------------
        	c  h  r  i  s   l  o  s  i  n  g  e  r   r  i  t
From: sstover@sumax.seattleu.edu (Maven o'Mirth)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Tuesday, 2 a.m./Sheryl
Date: 5 Oct 92 01:22:28 GMT
Organization: Seattle University, Seattle WA

For the better part of the week I have been trying to fulfill Richard
Bear's request for a non-sexist, non-love-lost sonnet.  I finally gave up.
*sigh* The form was just too much in my mind. :)



	Tuesday, 2 a.m.
	------------------------

	As if it were a gift, you offered me
	my space. I took it silent, having no
	idea what protest to make--now, go
	before I recognize my emptiness.  I'm free.
	You imagine me relieved, you see
	me in your mind's eye, taking great
	and solitary breaths of air.  It's late
	and I am brewing orange and whole clove tea.
	The bitter steam is hanging in the air;
	my hands are trembling.  How do you explain
	this gift, how should I take it as a gain
	to sleep alone, to be unneeded there?
	  I cannot be with you, and I want none
	  of pale companionship, of distant sun.


--
Sheryl Stover				|  How passing fair is youth,
*>sstover@sumax.seattleu.edu<*		|  Forever fleeting away;
and Hemingway, feline philosopher	|  Who happy would be, let him be;
Watch this .sig for news of the		|  Of tomorrow, who can say?
upcoming album from Seattle's 		|	-Lorenzo de'Medici
premier band, the Medici!		|
From: 2ftolonger@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Is this a love poem?
Date: 28 Sep 92 18:58:17 CDT
Organization: University of Kansas Academic Computing Services


Another untitled.......:(


Faces--
Noses, eyes, ears, mouths, lips,
Hair, skin, bones, muscles
Looking, touching, talking, acting
Happy, sad, angry, bored, crazy
	Reach--
	Find the one,
	Someone...
Walking, skipping, talking, listening,
Laughter, screams, jokes, sobs, gossip
	Where is the one,
	The one who will really listen?
Cars, drinks, clothes, music
Friends, parties, dates, people--
	Too many people.
Too many who don't listen to themselves.
	Where is the one?
	The one for me.....

--AKA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: watson@hg.uleth.ca (The terror that flaps in the night)
Subject: the race (for Tom)
Reply-To: watson@hg.uleth.ca
Organization: University of Lethbridge
Date: Sat, 3 Oct 1992 22:16:42 GMT

the race

it was always a race
to the car or
to the house.
you always won
the first born,
the first to open 
a new box of cereal
the first to get caught
lighting the alley on fire.
you were the first to smoke hemp,
the first to play guitar,
and your cherry went missing
years before mine.
and there i was
always following you
in everything we did
chanting, "first the worst!
second best!"
but something went wrong...
you were the first to turn 19,
but i was the first to turn 20.

Dedicated to my big brother, Tom (1958-1977)

- Carol
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: vaurenta@sage.cc.purdue.edu (Ford Prefect)
Subject: Life of an Idea
Organization: Purdue University
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 09:05:40 GMT


            Born of a spark in the mental plane
            The being springs forth from the well
            Flying high in the mental skies
            And searching for other worlds

            Flying though the skylanes of communication
            The being cries out it's name
            Joyfully spreading itself
            Calling for it's mate

            Though the gossamer threads of speach
            And the shining paths of emotion
            Another being steps forth
            Ready to share it's name

            Names are exchanged and accepted
            Amazement at their connection
            Such a small world
            Connected by such large thoughts

            From the depths of their names
            They merge with the other
            And send a catalyst to the well
            And the catalyst strikes a spark

            Born of a spark in the mental plane
            A new being springs forth from the well
            Flying high in the mental skies
            And searching for other worlds



   -Vaurenta

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Know Thyself -Socrates           Vaurenta is the callsign of another confused 
  Oops -Vaurenta                    person. Join the club
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ross@skatter.usask.ca
Subject: new user (and poem)
Organization: University of Saskatchewan
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1992 20:36:42 GMT


I've just discovered netnews and this newsgroup.  I'm new to this sort
of thing, but here's a contribution.  This is my firstest ever poem, and
comments are appreciated.

I have not commented on what I have read yet, as there is too much to
go through all at once.  I hope to rectify that later.



	I feel the chill
	and the damp.

	I crouch, still and silent,
	breathing gently.

	The quiet and the shadow
	shroud me, hide me,
	keep me safe.

	I peer into the mists,
	through the trees.
	I can make out the forms of sheep,
	smell their different sheep smells,
	love and contentment, fear and hunger,
	calm complacency.
	I hear them step, chew,
	bleat.

	Most of them cannot see me.
	The rest cannot see my difference.

	I take comfort in my invisibility.

	I reflect on my abilities,
	my muscles, my speed,
	my claws.

	I watch.

	I know not if I am the Guardian
	or the Predator.

	I wait.
	Soon, I will know.


				Stardate 9003.22
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Subject: Re: hormonely yours
Reply-To: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Organization: MSU
Date: Thu, 1 Oct 1992 06:41:53 GMT

In article <1992Sep30.224129.6292@leela.cs.orst.edu>, petersm@jacobs.CS.ORST.EDU (Marguerite Petersen) writes:
>In article <1992Sep30.190215.20085@honte.uleth.ca> watson@hg.uleth.ca writes:
>>
>>E motionally, challenged, you say, so
>>S tay away! Until I tell you otherwise but
>>T ell me repeatedly that you love me and while you're at it
>>R id me of this ache.
>>O ver-reacting, Ovulating, O fuck off!
>>G entle please, my breasts are tender from
>>E rotic dreams and nightmare days.
>>N ow you get over here! And give me a hug, dammit.

TYPICAL WOMAN!!!!!!  Can't give us a clue as to what the hell she wants/
needs.  


>I *really* liked this!  It gave me my smile for the day.
>
>Kathleen O'Toole
>Bringer of Light


Of course, you're female--it gave me the heebeegeebees, the screamin'
willies, and the zarkin' jarmonies!


(I did like it, though)          :)


aaaarrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!



--------------------------------
We are all toast in the dryer. | 
--------------------------------
           MORBID...!

(Somehow the Mike got left out).
From: wstrutin@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU (Wendy Strutin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: We Are What We Fear
Keywords: 'Freydom
Date: 4 Oct 92 19:06:43 GMT
Organization: Lehigh University, CSEE Dept, Bethlehem, PA

WE ARE WHAT WE FEAR

we are what we fear
anxious voices will not hear
steps away from today 
until tommorrow

without the comfort in not knowing
or in running from Fear's tugging
at the sleeve of all we leave
to stave the sorrow

    face the dragon - singe the pain
    dance the threshold - make it plain
    finding fear is only real 
    when hiding from it

    and the closet full of grief
    is all that we can be
    until the war of all our scars
    in finally quiet.


				\/\/endy

    


-- 
 /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\
<--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X-->
 \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/
   Official Argyle Mail Trailer  --  WStrutin@lehi3b15.csee.lehigh.edu
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: when I took
Date: 29 Sep 92 12:25:01 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

=

	when I took the hair out of your eyes
	you cried...
	...almost
	you could have cried all night
	all right
	when I took the hair out of your eyes
	for you
	I did it so that it would be alright
	I did it so that it would be alight
	looking into looking into bright


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: being with
Date: 30 Sep 92 15:17:12 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

=

	being with you
	not being
	with you not being with
	you not
	being with you
	not being with you
	not
	being with you not
	being with you


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
From: mzaransk@ux4.cso.uiuc.edu (>> MR MOJO RISIN <<)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: the dead
Date: 30 Sep 92 18:27:34 GMT
Article-I.D.: news.BvELy0.LH6
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana


 ***

 have we forgotten how to kill
 once again?
 frozen hands -- image of time
 like pleasures learned
 from the lovers tongue
 over our bodies

 placid pleasures 
 flowing from the oracle-like lips
 of new prophets
 enticing to fiest on the flesh
 of our sins
 and to find cool promise
 within the night

		   by marcin zaranski <mzaransk>
		    
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: moonbeam@iastate.edu (Timothy J Cockerham)
Subject: Mars
Summary: Mars; that red planet over there
Keywords: Mars
Organization: Iowa State University, Ames IA
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 18:25:07 GMT

	Mars

Deep within the martian trenches, 
the misty, unseen, stuff of life flows to the north.
An imperial march of stagnant mold. 
It brews itself on the lava flowing from distant underground volcanoes.
Inside, lives a creature: A ravishing demon: A monster unbound.

	-Tim-
	Quote o' the day.
	"I like soup. You should too." -Me. (Had to have food somewhere here)

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: armenon@top.cis.syr.edu (Anil Ravindran Menon)
Subject: Re: Creation of Urdu newsgroup
Organization: Syracuse University, CIS Dept.
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 92 23:34:31 EDT

Oh start the damm group for chrissake.

-Anil.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Subject: Re: fall is a bad time for butterflies
Reply-To: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Organization: MSU
Date: Thu, 1 Oct 1992 06:46:00 GMT

In article <5269@sumax.seattleu.edu>, sstover@sumax.seattleu.edu (Maven o'Mirth) writes:
>In article <1992Sep30.131050.7216@iscsvax.uni.edu> gilligan6855@iscsvax.uni.edu writes:
>>
>>                                                                         
>>**************************************************************************\
>[lovely poem, deleted to please my newsreader]
>>**************************************************************************

***************************************************************************
Lovely stuff, but I deleted it for the heck of it.
***************************************************************************


>Dunno, but I've got the same bug.
>--
>Sheryl Stover	
>
You might want to go to the doctor.


--------------------------------
We are all toast in the dryer. | 
--------------------------------
           MORBID...!

(Somehow the Mike got left out).
From: gilligan6855@iscsvax.uni.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: fall is a bad time for butterflies
Date: 30 Sep 92 13:10:49 -0500
Organization: University of Northern Iowa

yet another poem about fall.  what is it about the seasons that colors our
thoughts?

**************************************************************************\
in this season of sunny warmth
and nights of bone-chilling cold,
i talk of breaking my  cocoon.
i would be emerging naked
clad only in my butterflypeacock pride
in my own imagined glory.

this season's cold goes bone deep.
no matter how hard i try, 
i cannot get warm.
no matter how many layers of leaves 
i try to hide beneath.
this is the season of death.
how can i talk of birth?

***************************************************************************
carolee
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: there's a name on the
Date: 30 Sep 92 14:44:06 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

=

	there's a name on the wind
	can you hear it?
	it's a blowing breath
	a breathing touch, aglow
	the taste of this name
	in your breathed mouth
	is capers and olives and wine


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)