i
The wee billigits draw energy from an orgone cube
Housed inside an ancient phone booth
Three made jokes about superman
The fourth wee one didn’t understand
ii
“clark kent changed to superman in a phone booth
i cannot believe you are so obtuse”
to which the offended billie put up his little fists
and said “watch me change your face to a bruise”
iii
billigits three and four had seen enough
time is wasted by those who play rough
“have you fellas forgotten we were launched into the sky
by the witch with love in her eye”
iv
The four billigits got on the same page
And decided to find a good guy to sooth Eira’s rage
That’s when they saw hapless Heathcliff strolling across the moor
An idea appealed to the wee four
Leila
This section shows how poetry (unlike prose) works through the weight of a single word (and single words), in this case the word (the name) Heathcliff. (Sometimes prose can achieve the same effect, but in that case it’s poetic prose or prose poetry.)
The sudden (re)appearance of Heathcliff in this section creates cosmic connections!
Funny, too, how Heathcliff’s name itself very much says what he is, or much of what he is. Another aspect of poetry.
Along with the weight of single words, poetry works through its rhythm, the lines and stanzas, the phrases and, of course, even syllables.
“The difference between the almost right word and the right word…is the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” – Mark Twain
D
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Dale.
You are a wonderful reader and thinker and I thank you for all of it. It is fun, for me, to begin with a bizarre premise and then make up what happens as I go like “Keyser Sosa” in The Usual Suspects–simply b.s.-ing a story, using little bits of this and that for the purpose.
Finale tomorrow. Rest assured that the billigits always find the zaniest way across.
Leila
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