From: williamgwilliams@gmail.com   
      
   On Thursday, September 9, 2021 at 7:19:12 PM UTC-4, Rachel wrote:   
   > On Thursday, September 9, 2021 at 3:50:58 PM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:    
   > > On Thursday, September 9, 2021 at 3:14:37 PM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:    
   > > > On Thursday, September 9, 2021 at 3:12:44 PM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:    
   > > > > On Thursday, September 9, 2021 at 5:45:35 AM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:    
   > > > > > On Wednesday, September 8, 2021 at 1:16:21 PM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:    
   > > > > > > On Wednesday, September 8, 2021 at 1:03:58 PM UTC-7, Willie wrote:    
   > > > > > > > On Wednesday, September 8, 2021 at 3:22:28 PM UTC-4, Rachel   
   wrote:    
   > > > > > > > > On Wednesday, September 8, 2021 at 12:20:52 PM UTC-7, Rachel   
   wrote:    
   > > > > > > > > > On Wednesday, September 8, 2021 at 10:48:16 AM UTC-7, Willie   
   wrote:    
   > > > > > > > > > > On Tuesday, September 7, 2021 at 3:10:47 AM UTC-4, Rachel   
   wrote:    
   > > > > > > > > > > > The Hysterical Bride    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Metallic Pinballs, Sharp and Shiny,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > were First-Fisted, locked in,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Coiled Springs laying in wait    
   > > > > > > > > > > > for a driven Tail Spin;    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Pulled Back, then shot out,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > like a Bumper Car ride,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Darting madly across    
   > > > > > > > > > > > the Spread-Eagled Sky −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Destiny reigned down    
   > > > > > > > > > > > her Torrent Complete,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > door slamming,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > the Pounding of bare-naked Feet −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Primordial Bolts, from the Power    
   > > > > > > > > > > > of Hammerings,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Startled, the deer,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > these Thunderous Clamorings.    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > the Devil opened his door    
   > > > > > > > > > > > to Light up the route,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Leaving Directions in there,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > They mapped it all out;    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Our concocted Potion    
   > > > > > > > > > > > of a Best of Luck Chain,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Soldered together    
   > > > > > > > > > > > with gold Silver Rain −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Meet Ma’s Modern-Day,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Midwestern,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > ‘Lectric Lightnin’ Loops,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > The ceremonial conjoining    
   > > > > > > > > > > > of a new Chicken Coop −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > See our Rough, Rowdy Roller-Coaster    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Masters at War,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > delight in the Plight    
   > > > > > > > > > > > of these Sisyphus whores;    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Trapped on a Ping-Pong    
   > > > > > > > > > > > back and forth journey −    
   > > > > > > > > > > > With a cry and a moan    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Begins their Bipolar Tragedy.    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > We’re passing out tickets,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > across the Great Divide    
   > > > > > > > > > > > a new revolution,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > with God on Our Side −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > a Royal inborn    
   > > > > > > > > > > > freshwater Splash,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > their ancient Spiny White River    
   > > > > > > > > > > > is Tapped:    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Released it goes Streaming    
   > > > > > > > > > > > through the air waves of Sages,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Tearing over chiseled Red Rocks,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > it Ravages, Rages.    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Through narrowing Caverns it Echoes,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > It pleads and It screams:    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Count    
   > > > > > > > > > > > the Ticking of Clocks...    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Watch    
   > > > > > > > > > > > the karma of Dreams −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > They Crashed all Contorted    
   > > > > > > > > > > > into our own Lake of Fire,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Twisted and Blistering,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > reporting, “Shut up, Don’t cry!”    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > The Battle Call rang out,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > remembered,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > A splattering refrain    
   > > > > > > > > > > > The exquisite Luxury of Boredom,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Tedious, and Plain −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Haunted and cut-up,    
   > > > > > > > > > > > By her own harrowing Snake Hues:    
   > > > > > > > > > > > The lost diamond ring    
   > > > > > > > > > > > of our Dauphin in blue.    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > An empty chasm of Amusement    
   > > > > > > > > > > > for a Stately Royal few    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Just another fucked-up Deranged    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Schizophrenic Jew −    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > No choice left, nothing to Do    
   > > > > > > > > > > > But to Sing;    
   > > > > > > > > > > > A Perfectly Executed    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Cult murder Sting.    
   > > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > > Ẅ    
   > > > > > > > > > > A most excellent poem. I think "Chimes of Freedom" came   
   a-visiting for parts of it. Also, weirdly, "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite"   
   (in your lines that start with "Meet," "See," and my favorites:    
   > > > > > > > > > > Count    
   > > > > > > > > > > the Ticking of Clocks...    
   > > > > > > > > > > Watch    
   > > > > > > > > > > the karma of Dreams −    
   > > > > > > > > > > And the Beatles might have crept in again in the the "No   
   choice left, nothing to Do" lines, from "Good Morning Good Morning":    
   > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > Nothing to do to save his life, call his wife in    
   > > > > > > > > > > Nothing to say but what a day, how's your boy been    
   > > > > > > > > > > Nothing to do it's up to you,    
   > > > > > > > > > > I've got nothing to say but it's OK    
   > > > > > > > > > >    
   > > > > > > > > > > Glad to see the juices are flowing.    
   > > > > > > > > > that's a completely insane hypothesis. i am not even   
   familiar with more than half of the sources you quoted. this is utterly   
   absurd, william.    
   > > > > > > > > please avoid comparing me to such dreg slops in the future.    
   > > > > > > > Sorry. I see your point (that is, why you were offended).    
   > > > > > > you can dig up the progression of the poem from aapc, if you're   
   interested, my "workshop" as george dance so generously and aptly called it to   
   suit the purposes for which i apparently employ it.    
   > > > > > >    
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)