* <> The whisp'ring muse, but faintly heard, Had bidden me conjure with spirited words An epic – a blazing and hurtling thing, Thro' chasms deep beyond imagining, An exhalation of fire into cold, crystalline Caverns, igniting in the walls of that mine A cool iridescence, a Cherenkov glow That danced like aurorae, sinuous, slow, In each facet, each shard, each shimmering edge Of a lexical labyrinth-palace – but then, I thought, fuck it. I'd rather watch porn. -- Excerpted from: PUBLIC NOTES (H) http://alph.laemeur.com/txt/PUBNOTES-H ©2017 Adam C. Moore (LÆMEUR)