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Jan 2014
The Noble Soul Has Reverence For Itself

Some saw steel as a hurdle
A material, creatively, infertile
It had no use in a Tudor Chapel
As void an object as Eve’s apple

Innovation died with, past, ingenuity
A true lost sense of congruity
This defined the apparent nature of a coward
A form vacant in Howard
…(A car electric powered,  Clear history soured.)

P.S Eter Ellers

Walked in, mud on his shoe
The substance looked like a mound of poo
Cleaned it off in a decorative pool
Down river, ran the stool

Birdie Num Nums scattered about
Soaked with water from a concrete spout
Furniture moves with a life of it’s own
The will to which is hardly known

An invited pest
An awkward guest
Painted skin
The Party is FIN

Futuristic Nostalgia**

Two are split by the same division
A line drawn with accurate precision
One's caught in the hands of a time piece running fast
Frightened by setting it too far past
Another’s caught in a backwards flock
Allowing time to tenderly stalk
Neither finds it clear to see
Present tense is the place to be
Charles Lutwidge Dodgson
Written by
Charles Lutwidge Dodgson  Shermer, Illinois
(Shermer, Illinois)   
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