on the glory of burning out early
- MY CANDLE burns at both ends;
- It will not last the night;
- But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
- It gives a lovely light!
Labels: poetry
The moment I inject discourse from my u. of d. into your u. of d., the yourness of yours is diluted. The more I inject, the more you dilute. Soon you will be presiding over an empty plenum, or, rather, since that is a contradiction in terms, over a former plenum, in terms of yourness. You are, essentially, in my power. I suggest an unlisted number.
Labels: poetry
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