<~>30 Jul 2003

but, the familiar phrases in the middlw of the poem--they spoil it for me. fresh language from you, daniella! these stick:
from [perhaps] whence we came.
To pitch, roll and yaw.
they close the books on this
questions won't go away
blown off course

this one, you twist, to make your own:
I'm afraid practice is making perfect pretences.

but the others, no, they are too familiar and deaden it for me. sorry.