One last poem, for now, from the vault

A conversation between the ears of God


Stick your Euclidean prick
Where a conversational vortex
Glimmers and shines
Sparkles and whines
Stick your Euclidean prick where
"Dad's (famous) shorthand" system
Mirror of self
Lurks like a beast ready to spring
Lurks like a metaphor wrapped in cliché
Lurks like a recursion beyond order 2
(Hofstadter thinks like this.)
And that's why rhythm should be preserved
For if it breaks
It will lead to a pantheon of apathy (weak: antiphony)
Clutching a bottle I contemplate (...)
Hidden fear of alcoholism just like Daddy G.
Gee: it's great I meant to say grand
Poetry requires honesty, the "one true (garbled) thought."
Imagine zin is zang and yang is zid.
That was a self-quotation, almost.
Appending I must append, tinker and fix
Separate sentences are required
For each prisoner
of language
Beginning a line with prep
Oh. sition. What? That's pretty damn stupid
If you ask me.