gri_2003_m_46_b06_f07_032
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.167
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.089
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- WINNER - 71796442 - Preacher357
- 71915338 - Sticker88
- 72238249 - workergnome
- 72598132 - jesseytucker
- 73049663 - calculatedFlame
- 73093876 - Molly_Carr
WINNER - 71796442 - Preacher357
(2)NIGHT
Aubade is soon, where are you
still in the dark, crazy to wake
from something papery or soft,
hungry membrane, coarse sack?
What do you want to wake to
except the skin that hoards blood
as if it were our life's night?
This is the night's happy ending.
Despite dreams I know how it ends.
DAWN'S TIMING IS GOOD
Bloop of water , its chambered bleep,
soup on a slope, keeping on night long:
the eek of planks, creaking down
the rustle of loose plaster, oh the house
Sonnets regular as milken pints
are characteristic of the morning
which always periods the time
when sounds were live in the good ear.
MORNING
In what the folk said real I look
for salt and pattern.
Home truths about the bed and sky,
the thin to fatten.
Making the bed, setting the table,
hands turn into tools.
The sudden taste of earth in a ripe pear
sets me digging fools
(...july, 1953)
71915338 - Sticker88
(2)NIGHT
Aubade is soon, where are you
still in the dark, crazy to wake
from something papery or soft,
hungry membrane, coarse sack?
What do you want to wake to
except the skin that hoards blood
as if it were our life's night?
DAWN'S TIMING IS GOOD
Bloop of water, its chambered bleep,
soup on a slope, keeping on night long:
the ek of planks, creaking down
the rustle of loose plaster, on the house.
Sonnets regular as milken pints
are characteristic of the morning
which always periods the time
when sounds were live in the good ear.
MORNING
In what the fold said real I look
for salt and pattern.
Home truths about the bed and sky,
the thin to fatten.
Making the bed, setting the table,
hands turn into tools.
The sudden taste of earth in a ripe pear
sets me digging fools.
(...july, 1953)
72238249 - workergnome
(2)Night
Aubade is soon, where are you
still in the dark, crazy to wake
from something papery or soft,
hungry membrane, coarse sack?
What do you want to wake to
except the skin that hoards blood
as if it were our life's night?
This is the night's happy ending.
Despite dreams I know how it ends.
DAWN'S TIMING IS GOOD
Bloop of water, its chambered bleep,
soup on a slope, keeping on night long:
The wek of planks, creaking down
the rustle of loose planks on the house.
Sonnets regular as milken pints
are characteristic of the morning
which always periods the time
when sounds were live in the good ear.
MORNING
In what the wold said real I look
for salt and pattern.
Home truths about the bed and sky,
the thing to fatten.
Making the bed, setting the table,
hands turn into tools.
The sudden taste of earth in a ripe pear
set me digging fools.
(...july, 1953)
72598132 - jesseytucker
(2)NIGHT
Aubade is soon, where are you
still in the dark, crazy to wake
from something papery or soft,
hungry membrane, coarse sack?
What do you want to wake to
except the skin that hoards blood
as if it were our life's night?
This is the night's happy ending.
Despite dreams I know how it ends.
DAWN'S TIMING IS GOOD
Bloop of water, its chambered bleep,
soup on a slope, keeping on night long:
the eek of planks, creaking down
the rustle of loose plaster, oh the house.
Sonnets regular as milken pints
are characteristic of the morning
which always periods the time
when sounds were live in the good ear.
MORNING
In what the folk said real I look
for salt and pattern.
Home truths about the bed and sky,
the thin to fatten.
Making the bed, setting the table,
hands turn into tools.
The sudden taste of earth in a ripe pear
sets me digging fools.
(...july, 1953)
73049663 - calculatedFlame
(2)NIGHT
Aubade is soon where are you
still in the dark, crazy to wake
from something papery or soft,
hungry membrane, coarse sack?
What do you want to wake to wake to
except the skin that hoards blood
as if it were our life's night?
This is the night's happy ending.
Despite dreams I know how it ends.
DAWN'S TIMING IS GOOD
Bloop of water, its chambered bleep,
soup on a slope, keeping on night long:
the eek of planks, creaking down
the rustle of loose plaster, of the house.
Sonnest regular as milken pints
are characteristic of the morning
which always periods the time
when sounds were live in the good ear.
MORNING
In what the folk said real I look
for salt and pattern
Home truths about the bed and sky,
the thin to fatten.
Making the bed, setting the table,
hands turn into tools.
The sudden taste of earth in a ripe pear
sets me digging fools.
(...july, 1953)
73093876 - Molly_Carr
(2)NIGHT
Aubade is soon, where are you
still in the dark, crazy to wake
from something papery or soft,
hungry membrane, coarse sack?
What do you want to wake to
except the skin that hoards blood
as if it were our life's night?
This is the night's happy ending.
Despite dreams I know how it ends.
DAWN'S TIMING IS GOOD
Bloop of water, its chambered bleep,
soup on a slope, keeping on night long:
the rek of planks, creaking down
the rustle of loose plaster, on the house.
Sonnets regular as milekn pints
are charicteristics of the morning
which always periods the time
when sounds were live in the good ear.
MORNING
In what the folk said read I look
for salt and pattern.
Home truths about the bed and sky,
the thin to fatten.
Making the bed, setting the table,
hands turn into tools.
The sudden taste of earth in a rope pear sets me digging fools.
(...july,1953)