"gape" poems
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary
The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.
The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God
Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility
Fumy, spiritous mists inhabit this place.
Separated from my house by a row of headstones.
I simply cannot see where there is to get to.
The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,
White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet
With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.
Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky ----
Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection
At the end, they soberly **** out their names.
The yew tree points up, it has a Gothic shape.
The eyes lift after it and find the moon.
The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.
Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.
How I would like to believe in tenderness ----
The face of the effigy, gentled by candles,
Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes.
I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering
Blue and mystical over the face of the stars
Inside the church, the saints will all be blue,
Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews,
Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.
The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.
And the message of the yew tree is blackness -- blackness and silence
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I am the entourage
Of a fantastic mirage
I am the agent
Of my mind's figment
I am a believer
Of mythical creatures
I am a builder
Of splendid architecture
I am a drunkard
Tripping on futures so absurd
I plan construction
Of my own destruction
I am the feeder
To dreams of grandeur
I am a magician
Of wild, potent concoctions
I am a tycoon
Of emotional typhoons
I am an adept
Skilled in exploiting concepts
I am a parasite
Brandishing fangs that bite
I play host
To a monstrous, hideous ghost
I am an addict
Of thoughts derelict
I am the dreamer
Incapable of anything lesser
I am a diver
Sinking deeper and deeper
I am an insatiable thief
Claiming trophies without grief
I am an emotional hermit
Hoarding my all in a bottomless pit
I am a weaver
Fabricating tales that meander
I am a Neanderthal
Adopting behaviours and habits that appall
I am an ape
Mending wounds that gape
I am but me
I'm blind, fighting to see
I am rhymesmith
I lie through my teeth
Getting hard to breathe
Heart to words, I seethe...
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 7:28 AM UTC
writhe and
gape of tortured
perspective
rasp and graze of splintered
normality
crackle and
sag
of planes clamors of
collision
collapse As
peacefully,
lifted
into the awful beauty
of sunset
the young city
putting off dimension with a blush
enters
the becoming garden of her agony
10.9k
If there are infinite worlds,
there must be one where umbrellas never close-
hinges locked open like stubborn jaws,
gape-mouthed against walls in patient herds.
No one in their twenties owns one,
their hamster-cage apartments
too small for such luxuries.
They ask for rain jackets on birthdays.
Mary Poppins still drifts down Cherry Tree Lane,
her umbrella never folding,
only floating.
Children carry slips home
for violating umbrella laws,
forging signatures in loopy ink.
The Morton Salt girl wears a slicker,
yellow as a warning flare before the flood.
My mother walking me to kindergarten in rain,
transparent vinyl dome above our heads-
I, the opposite of a fish in its tank.
Her hair plastered to her forehead
by the time we reached the door.
Everyone looks most beautiful
with rainwater running down their face.
In the open-umbrella reality,
time can walk backward-
you can unwater a plant,
unpeel a clementine,
un-kiss someone.
Endings lift again,
fabric billowing, as if the story
had been left open in the wind.
Heather and Mike find the road out.
Rosemary tips the bassinet.
There, perhaps, neither of us was born.
What lay between us
stays open too long,
collecting rain until it sags,
slow and certain, like sugar
in the first storm.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
* *The witches heart is made of straw,
witches' heart is no heart at all.*
*The witch ideal a nature's fend,
her heart desires the human end.*
*The vines contort limb,
Lycurgus' gape.
as a punishment for,
man's unholy ****
'
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
By Janis Ian
I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth...
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say "come dance with me"
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen...
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said: "Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve"
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly...
So remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen...
To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me...
We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say: "Come on, dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen...
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 3:34 PM UTC
God knows how our neighbor managed to breed
His great sow:
Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid
In the same way
He kept the sow--impounded from public stare,
Prize ribbon and pig show.
But one dusk our questions commended us to a tour
Through his lantern-lit
Maze of barns to the lintel of the sunk sty door
To gape at it:
This was no rose-and-larkspurred china suckling
With a penny slot
For thrift children, nor dolt pig ripe for heckling,
About to be
Glorified for prime flesh and golden crackling
In a parsley halo;
Nor even one of the common barnyard sows,
Mire-smirched, blowzy,
Maunching thistle and knotweed on her snout-
cruise--
Bloat tun of milk
On the move, hedged by a litter of feat-foot ninnies
Shrilling her hulk
To halt for a swig at the pink teats. No. This vast
Brobdingnag bulk
Of a sow lounged belly-bedded on that black
compost,
Fat-rutted eyes
Dream-filmed. What a vision of ancient hoghood
must
Thus wholly engross
The great grandam!--our marvel blazoned a knight,
Helmed, in cuirass,
Unhorsed and shredded in the grove of combat
By a grisly-bristled
Boar, fabulous enough to straddle that sow's heat.
But our farmer whistled,
Then, with a jocular fist thwacked the barrel nape,
And the green-copse-castled
Pig hove, letting legend like dried mud drop,
Slowly, grunt
On grunt, up in the flickering light to shape
A monument
Prodigious in gluttonies as that hog whose want
Made lean Lent
Of kitchen slops and, stomaching no constraint,
Proceeded to swill
The seven troughed seas and every earthquaking
continent.
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I have killed them all
Not a hero to be seen
I have drained the hope
Made this world unclean
I am the alpha, the omega
The god they never knew
I am the reason for which
The sun shines through
I have locked her up
In a cage of ice
I will have her
When the time is right.
I will have peace now
No more free will
No more wars
No more ill
No one will be lost
All will live
No need for a chance
For none I will give
The dawn is coming
Let me get my cape
For they will see me in the morning
And they will gape
At my form so glorious
At my will so strong
For I have finally won
This war after long
Bear with me oh reader
For I will have you too
For I am good now
And I will see it through
What is that light
How dare it cross my way
How does it not know
The new masters face.
Wait what is this
There is still hope.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
I'm done trying to make myself beautiful
I'm bored with mascara, weighing down my eyelashes
gunking up my sight like a city sewer
I'm finished with lip gloss
a pop of shiny color on my wet mouth
pulling you in for a sticky kiss
I want to be ugly
to let my pores gape wide and let in the air
my skin breathing for the first time in years
I want to claw off my clothing
my fabric fittings sewn to slim me down
to tailor me into something worth loving
I want to be repulsively human
maybe all of this is because you said
how you always love the most disgusting things
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
in ashes hidden, smoulders god of love
from matted dancer's focus conflagration purely come
continues still perhaps in empty homage
of a sa ta na ma
personage of ((Shiva))
white bones pierce the sky
in upward curtain-seethes of heat
beyond imagined burning hells...
the triad ventures into zero-zones of anti-life,
sands of absolute defeat.
shadow trust imparts
a silent teacher's mantras;
soothing psychic words,
"Bala" and "Adi-Bala"
carry over dunes of morbid thirst--
the gape of ancient serpent-maws
choking dust of frightened, elephantine skeletons
fissured by immobile sun--
their inner sound become cool water of a summer stream
in timeless desert, traverses strain of royal line:
god-fated tutelage of seedling savior,
lightning skill with bow and virtue sinew
shining arms horizon's arid form:
despite begrudging honor kings expect
when offspring given after years
in hard-earned sacrificial grace:
yet still obeisance ends in facing demonaic rage
to which is pitted youth to slay--
despite allay by symbol feminine,
as if to question her abode would conjure her
in dire storm and quake announce gigantic step and hairy gulf--
with arrow sprays destroy Thataka's trident, curdling throat
the slitting of, rejoicing pantheon proclaims heroic,
forever railing under epic breath of tacit page theodical:
"we gave you progeny, now grant us our theocracy;
before your son our asthras lay their weaponry"
.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 5:03 PM UTC
*You arrived suddenly in my tangerine bliss
with my heart clinched in your fist
you touched me... and the dance started
with a gape of spontaneous combustion
you swirled me around the dance floor
dancing cheek to cheek....*
we skipped the light fandango
fox trotting and waltzing to the beat of tango
the big band broke into a swing
while the love light shone as a crystal disco ball
jitterbug jive and a reet beet
dance macabre and so light on our feet
*You lead me by the hand bodies musing
all the while... you lead me out by my hand
and made way into the galaxy for our feet
as we danced like fine wine...becoming intoxicated
by its beauty~ you danced me into Shangri-La
with my eyes wide and full of imagination
we danced through tangled forests of light*
like Fred and Ginger
tiptoeing upon the backs of stars
dipping into galaxies and twirling on quasars
i hold your hand as you pirouette
upon the moons of a mystic world
as our romantic lambada is unfurled
forbidden planets and forbidden dance
the secrets of whirlwind romance
*we were like Phoenix that had risen
dancing into the morning dew and nectarine
and I kissed you as the tangerines fell
from the sky~ dazed with a trial of stars
and then oh yes then.... I pronounced myself
as yours....as we escaped to paradise
dancing all the while.....cheek to cheek
as you gave me the Tangerine Kiss.....*
tangerine kisses, tangerine dreams
sipped of the nectar of the gods
the fruit of creation in the form of love
a blessing from goddess, earth and above
we dance the steps of swoon and lean
and sweet nuances of tangerine
with every blessing in between
*I felt a kiss upon my frozen cheeks
a clear promise of all our tomorrows
as I sleep with love within our hearts
your sweet tangerine kisses and dreams
are part of our creation... straight from above
My heart is dancing and dreaming
with you always a blessing from God.*
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
When I gape into your eyes, I see no reflection
When I decipher your face, I see no expression
When I examine your body, I see no possession
When I stare into your lips, I see no confession
When I look in front of a mirror, I see great depression
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 9:16 AM UTC
No use whistling for Lyonnesse!
Sea-cold, sea-cold it certainly is.
Take a look at the white, high berg on his forehead-
There's where it sunk.
The blue, green,
Gray, indeterminate gilt
Sea of his eyes washing over it
And a round bubble
Popping upward from the mouths of bells
People and cows.
The Lyonians had always thought
Heaven would be something else,
But with the same faces,
The same places...
It was not a shock-
The clear, green, quite breathable atmosphere,
Cold grits underfoot,
And the spidery water-dazzle on field and street.
It never occurred that they had been forgot,
That the big God
Had lazily closed one eye and let them slip
Over the English cliff and under so much history!
They did not see him smile,
Turn, like an animal,
In his cage of ether, his cage of stars.
He'd had so many wars!
The white gape of his mind was the real Tabula Rasa.
2.8k
peace is when you feel at ease,
within your skin, in your own body,
peace is when, you close your eyes,
and exhale out, all your worries,
peace is when, you hold your love,
against the cold, of the winter nights,
peace is when, you hear the song,
of crickets, in the otherwise silent air,
peace is when, you could sleep,
without the occurrence, of nightmares,
peace is when, you see a flower,
and analyze, the vibrancy of its colors,
peace is when, someone thanks you,
for you have been good to them,
peace is when, you genuinely smile,
without a care, of those glaring eyes,
peace is when, you greet a friend,
even though, you have quarreled,
peace is when, you invoke your soul,
to shed away, the weights it carry,
peace is when, you cook a stew or curry,
and its aroma wafts, into your nostrils,
peace is when … whenever
you feel at peace
peace is when, I look into the mirror,
without sneering, at my own reflection,
peace is when, I could do something,
get a feel of activity, in these stationary days,
peace is when, I get to go outside,
and breathe the same air, as others,
peace is when, I find a song, long lost,
with the voice of which, I adjoin my voice,
peace is when, I realize something,
a solution, though temporary, but there,
peace is when, I receive a message,
from some one across the ocean,
peace is when, that some one asks me,
how I am, even though we have never met,
peace is when I find a piece of art,
beckoning me, to gape at it,
peace is when, I solve a puzzle,
for I see myself, in a positive light,
peace is when, I read someone’s writing,
and get caught into, the web of those words,
peace is when, I write few letters and punctuation,
dissolving my entirety into them,
peace is when… whenever I
forget about this life
I wish a piece of peace, for me,
and some more for you
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
Oh, the great city's madness when at nightfall
The crippled trees gape by the blackened wall,
The spirit of evil peers from a silver mask;
Lights with magnetic scourge drive off the stony night.
Oh, the sunken pealing of evening bells.
***** who in her icy shivers sheds a still-born child.
With raving whips God's fury punishes brows possessed.
Purple pestilence, hunger that breaks green eyes.
Oh, the horrible laughter of gold.
But silent in dark caves a stiller humanity bleeds,
Out of hard metals moulds the redeeming head.
2.5k
More a French shave than five o'clock shadow,
the young artist's way of backing off,
announcing danger, an air of the unexpected,
as the King snake has evolved to feign the Coral.
Yet, where camel hair touched canvas calm,
where quintessential light met quotidian ennui,
not the advertised blackened rose or orchid,
rather the sizzle, the honeyed-heat of azalea.
Each stroke portended floral intifada,
pastel yellows and oily greens igniting
upon a fired-umber background,
threatened to melt the easel into tar.
I stood gape-jawed, nodded approval,
eyeing the second creation within a single flower.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG
1
Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks
And dreams the dreamers story he has lived.
Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters
By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown
Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss,
Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.
And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . .
Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount.
Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout,
And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing;
Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.
2
Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail
And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides
Assail and chop the collected bones they drop;
It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments
Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake;
Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.
And the seeker, he is seeking . . .
Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors,
Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria,
Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers,
Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.
3
Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush,
Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread,
Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true
The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering
Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness
Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.
And the lover, he is longing . . .
Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes.
Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape.
Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes.
Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.
4
Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps
And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward
Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto
Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning
Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids,
Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.
And the doomed, they are crying . . .
****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis,
Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness.
Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss;
The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
Hair stands upon jolted skin folds.
You never could eat a salad.
You look pregnant with a fat pig!
Large enough to eclipse the sun!
Large enough to cause nuclear winter for everyone!
Grass ceases to grow with every step that you take!
The earth weighs a percent more whenever you ingest!
Your rolls could warm the Eskimos!
An orchestra of clapping flesh fills the room with every movement you make!
You don't seem to care about the people you run over when rolling in the street.
You say it is their fault for getting in the way.
They all look like Indiana Jones trying to outrun a boulder.
Too many happy meals can make a lot of people unhappy.
Man sized pancakes dot the side walks that we all used to tread.
Skinny people no longer exist, they are all dead. You mistook them for French fries.
You are just as imperfect as me,
So who are you to point a chunky finger.
You think you are so big behind that screen. Lecturing me about body standards when you look like you washed up on the beach this morning.
Stop crushing your high horse and come down just a little bit.
Time for you to get a serving of your own medicine.
Gape those ears wide and give a listen:
I don't live to look good for some fat *** greasy, disgusting pig on the internet, jerking off to ********** **** while his mother makes microwave pizzas upstairs!
So jam that finger up you ***
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:51 PM UTC
[Praying] Ka leina la Ntate,la Morwa le la moya o o galalelang
Amen!
She cried while praying
For she never ever in her history felt this way
One could say it was tears of joy and love:
[Praying] Modimo ntate ke rata go go leboga fa okile wa ntshegofatsa ka neo ya motho yo o gapile pelo yame,ke raya sona serunkgi sa pelo yame.Ke lebogela lerato,boikobo le tlotlo yo o mo neileng yona.Ke lebogela fa o mo tlisiitse mo botshelong bame.
Amen!
At the other hand one could say it was tears of fear:
[Praying]Modimo wame yo ke mo rapelang bosigo le motshegare ke wena o itseng maikaelelo a gagwe mo gonna ka jalo kopa o mpontshe tsela gore ka nnete ke ena yo a tshwanetseng pelo yame.
Amen!
Since day one she made sure that she never skipped a day without looking for the answers from the one Above.
She prayed and prayed and prayed and she is still praying not only for her or him but for them:
[Praying]Modimo yo ke mo rapelang bosigo le motshegare,Modimo yo ntirelang ntho tsotlhe ke ipaya pele gago keleng ngwana wa gago mo se sebaka go go kopa gore o babalele kamano ya rona, fa ele ena motho yo ke moratang gape ke batla go tshela le ena.
Amen!
She is really praying, hoping and trusting that this relationship will last.
You should see her when she talks to him
You should see her when his name lights up on her phone
You should see her when she talks about him
You should see her when she hears his name
You should see her when she sees him
You should see her smile when she thinks of him
You should see her
She becomes….
She becomes happy
She is in love
She loves him
She doesn't want to lose him
Her love for him begins at forever and ends at never.
_________________________________________
*Prayer 1: In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy spirit. Amen!
*Prayer 2: Father God, I would like to thank you for the rich blessing of a sincere heartwarming soul, I am talking about the one who captured my heart. Thank you for the love, humility, and respect you’ve given him. Thank you for bringing in my life. Amen!
*Prayer 3: The God I worship night and day, you the one who knows his intentions for me therefore I ask you to show me the way, if this is really the one for me. Amen!
*Prayer 4: The God I worship night and day, the God who provides for me, I put myself before you as a child of God asking you to protect our relationship for he is the one I love and want to spend my life with. Amen!
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
duck face to fish gape
snap chatting **** pics
instagraming the ******
narcissism holds sway a nation –
apathetic selfie queens
scroll past Syria
to delve deeply
into the Minaj/ Swift debacle
shackled minds line mall walls
behind shines the toothy grin
of sinister consumer based
individualism..
a schism widens as the generational divide
resembles a large impressive Grand Canyon…
as opposed to the little crack in south Colorado –
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands
And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes
Pained craving
Wavering but
Hit and
It’s all loosey goosey goodness
Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles
Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays
A stern turn in old age the silly phase of
Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles
Secedes into introspective
Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and
Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus?
Strangers will eat you
The professor thinks I’m funny because
I know the answers in class
The other day Dingus
And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end
And money!
No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine
Trying not to fear the outdoors, though
The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes
And not to eat my candy
Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir
I slurp them and belch
Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge
On loud faces; empty meat
Where you can hear the jingly metal
Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower
They don’t always like me
But
I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers
And a million lightyears to burn
Truth is worth dying
Four **** sow
Izzeny thing these daze
Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s
Always art
Quieting the plague that revealed
Not so good after all
Tiny thorns and all-consuming
Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish
Overcome, that never went away or found
A place to sit
Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone
Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
Immersed so deep
Questioning the way of the sheep
Sheep who conform to this reality
Without so much as a peep
They might begin to realize
Just what they're missing
If they saw the world through my eyes
I wish I could share this vision
With more than just words
This reality is derision
This mockery for the birds
Some may call it escape
Looking at the world through open eyes
But when your pupils begin to gape
You can see through the lies
So partake and open yourself
To a world of beauty and wonder
These are my trippin' bawls
I hope they make you ponder
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
there were things
i had never imagined
i would understand
be; experience
and gape bemusedly at my
unbelieving ambiguous eyes
in the unnoticeably clear
smiling mirror of the bathroom.
things such as
being a creep
the creep whose wandering eye
wanders just a wee bit longer.
A microsecond length of
the not-understood, the suspicious,the dubious
the curious sometimes,
but really mostly nefarious lunatic, perhaps...?
the creep whose teeth clench into a
smile.
the lips parting
but only
Mendaciously...perhaps..?
the creep who peers into me
like a god
scouring my precious little secrets
my hurt points,
my loci of scandalous innocuous things
meant to be inside of me
for my self.
the creep who infringes
on my warm bed
of Safety.
***
********
erectile dysfunction
sneer
******
*****
me
father
mother
weirdity
all the complexes
that make you Feel
like a spider
whose web is shattered with
but an uncaring finger.
power.
Uncaring Callousness
terrifying in it's brutality
intent ,
and things beyond .
the creep peers in.
but i was only trying
to make friends.
a bit too hard , perhaps...?
oh the creeps of the world
i understand thy plight
the fact that you never understand
what you are
doing
but only after it has passed
that the black hole irises
of un-understanding visages
come to you
to inform you
that you have been
a creep, the Creep.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC