From: davidsands@yahoo.com   
      
   largo   
      
   the moon drifts into and out of clouds   
   like the face of a politician   
   his re-election depends on ignorance   
   all the assassins bullets laughed too hard   
   to hit the mark a laughter like the breath   
   of a sleeping elephant   
      
   allemande   
      
   the donut shop closes its doors   
   eight overweight policemen   
   visibly weep they once surrounded   
   an elephant and only three were stampeded   
   cohorts brought them donuts   
   but the donuts are no more   
      
   minuet one   
      
   the officers belts   
   could hold back a breaking damn   
   the unpopped corn under the seat   
   will someday be a terrorist device   
      
   minuet two   
      
   bits of fabric   
   run down the street naked   
   the paradox rehearses in an empty warehouse   
   and dons surgical gloves   
   for feeling up an adolescent   
      
   finale   
      
   i opened my arms   
   lik a bird spreading its wings   
   and flew four feet   
   now surrounded by overweight cops   
   my brain exposed   
   i make the rounds shaking hands   
   i sign an autograph   
   then die   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)