A train whistle blows
And echoes over the forgotten graveyard.
In the dark of night, the West wind
Sweeps across the fields.
What gloomy tidings ride
Upon that ancient gale?
What long dead spirit voice
Cries out from the forgotten forests?
A shape, silhouetted against a sky
Faintly orange with distant city lights,
Moves slowly across the rise.
The colorless leaves fall
From the arms of their decaying towers.
And then the wind subsides,
But a dread chill persists
Upon this haunted land.
It is relatively simple to search for designer discounts
on the web. Lady Gaga wore a bright magenta shirt and teamed it
with a simple square pattern. If strange symbols are replacing the real ones,
you’re surely looking at a house and it’s just looking at a house and it’s just looking at a house the whole time.
This is almost existential, I think. “If strange symbols are replacing the real ones”–I could see T.S. Eliot writing that. Granted, he would decide it wasn’t very good, but I could see it.
This set me thinking that someone should create poems compiled from spam comments. Well, some searching revealed that, in fact, someone has, and it’s quite funny! Check it out.