It’s known that phantoms eat alphabet soup. They like the language like beans like butter, but better to have all of its parts drowning in a dark sea than to weep through what time you have without ever scrumptiously creating an apple to fall on the dead.
Beginning December 1st, 2006, I'll be writing a poem a day and posting it here for one year and one month. With any luck, I'll write more than one a day. At the end of this, on January 1st, 2008, I'll have at least 396 poems. But probably many more.