Change template and CSS for flatter structure

- Change CSS to one file - Change template to reflect CSS flattening
author: Case Duckworth 2015-03-24 22:53:18 -0700
committer: Case Duckworth 2015-03-24 22:53:18 -0700
commit: df0d5f3cb03f8bf7d72e067c0fd7ee54ce4b86eb (patch)
tree: 9cb3585e91c71e0d56bff5fb1f0d6c8dc5f8c093
parent: Disable Jekyll page rendering (diff)
download: autocento-df0d5f3cb03f8bf7d72e067c0fd7ee54ce4b86eb.tar.gz
autocento-df0d5f3cb03f8bf7d72e067c0fd7ee54ce4b86eb.zip
432 files changed, 15289 insertions, 2927 deletions
diff --git a/.template.html b/.template.html
index 952cc41..96ee7b3 100644
--- a/.template.html
+++ b/.template.html

@@ -12,18 +12,10 @@
    <title>$title$ | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-    $if(genre)$
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/$genre$.css">
-    <script src="./js/$genre$.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-    $endif$
-    $if(project.css)$
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/$project.css$.css">
-    <script src="./js/$project.css$.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-    $endif$
    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
@@ -32,10 +24,10 @@
    $headerincludes$
    $endfor$
 </head>
-<body>
+<body id="$id$"$if(project.class)$ class="$project.class$"$endif$>
    $for(include-before)$ $include-before$ $endfor$
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            $if(title)$<h1 class="title">$title$</h1>$endif$
@@ -100,7 +92,9 @@
            </div>
        $endif$
-        <section class="content $genre$">$body$</section>
+        <section class="content $genre$">
+            $body$
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
        $for(project.prev)$
diff --git a/100-lines.html b/100-lines.html
index 8da5be6..792f40c 100644
--- a/100-lines.html
+++ b/100-lines.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>100 lines | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="100-lines" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">100 lines</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Whenever you call me friend<br />I fall down on my knees and cry<br />because I know it’s the only thing<br />never to happen before in this<br />life is something you can’t see<br />it’s a pillow under a <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">hook shot</a><br /><a href="lovesong.html">I want to tell you something anything</a><br />but you are there and I am here<br />we are <a href="howtoread.html">trapped inside ourselves</a><br />and the distance is too far<br />you are something that I would tell<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">would be nothing</a> before too long<br />you are not the finisher of dreams<br />you are the beginning of <a href="in-bed.html">nightmares</a><br />or waking but I’m not sure which<br />this <a href="poetry-time.html">letter is for you</a> in the future<br />it will lead you on the path<br />of goodness or of rightness or of<br />wrong people and right meanings<br />or the meaning will be hidden<br />or wrestling the demon I will have become<br />restless under the starlight<br />it’s too bright here to think<br />the negatives would be pitch black<br />darkness of a silver mine<br />there are <a href="plant.html">no trees</a> here<br />where have you been where are you now<br />I am no longer here or there<br />you are anywhere or are you<br />up in the clouds is a ghost<br />he is white and blue like a cloud<br />he paints with his teeth<br />he paints the rainbow before midnight<br />that you can see from your window<br />staring out under the sunlight<br />through the gauze curtains<br /><a href="mountain.html">over the high mountain</a> far away<br />that is covered over with snow<br />past the rivers and forests<br />that lie awake under Orion<br />hunting the bull that runs forever<br />just out of his reach<br />pointing the way for the two of us<br />to join together in song or dance<br />or that other thing and sing<br />the Grinch down off Mount Crumpet<br /><a href="moon-drowning.html">his heart breaking his chest</a><br />thumping with the beat<br />his <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUpxmlZ2hyM">little dog too</a> running running<br />with the bull full of laughter and blood<br />he can’t see it anymore because it’s become him<br />we are trapped he says we are<br />trapped in ourselves it turns out<br />that all along it wasn’t you or me<br />but he and her or her and him or<br />he and he or she and she or they<br />even they tell us that nothing has happened<br />even they know that it’s a big joke<br />one more thing to know before the death<br />we are crying like crocodiles<br />before their loved ones’ coffins<br />we are bellowing with grief like buffalo<br />on a berth of wild oxen<br />we are wailing our clothes are in rags<br /><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">we want</a> <a href="fire.html">we want</a> <a href="lovesong.html">we want</a><br />but never can we get<br />what is it<br />we don’t know what it is<br />but it’s something it’s anything<br />it’s too many people or not enough<br />it’s too few trees we need more<br />beavers to build riverdams we need<br />grapes too or <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/245576">plums</a> from the ice box<br />or an ice box even would be nice<br />all I have is this cube isn’t that right<br />or is a sphere a cube a donut a coffee<br />cup your hands in mine yes that’s right<br />now bring the water to your face<br />clear and cool and<br />full of something<br />what is it wanting<br />or yearning<br />I can see in your eyes they’re clear now<br />they are as clear as a running stream<br />or the sky that’s clear right<br />or the water that is in the Bahamas<br />because I hear that’s clear<br />you’re as clear as the sound of a bell<br />you’re as clear as the <a href="table_contents.html">braying of horses</a><br />you’re as clear as the glass in God’s eye<br />and I<br />I’m as dull as an ox plowing<br /><a href="last-passenger.html">through fields in his yoke</a><br />I’m as dull as clouded amber<br />I’m dull as you find me<br />tonight after dinner<br />I’m reading the crossword<br />you’re sitting beside me<br />you’re watching TV.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>Whenever you call me friend<br />I fall down on my knees and cry<br />because I know it’s the only thing<br />never to happen before in this<br />life is something you can’t see<br />it’s a pillow under a <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">hook shot</a><br /><a href="lovesong.html">I want to tell you something anything</a><br />but you are there and I am here<br />we are <a href="howtoread.html">trapped inside ourselves</a><br />and the distance is too far<br />you are something that I would tell<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">would be nothing</a> before too long<br />you are not the finisher of dreams<br />you are the beginning of <a href="in-bed.html">nightmares</a><br />or waking but I’m not sure which<br />this <a href="poetry-time.html">letter is for you</a> in the future<br />it will lead you on the path<br />of goodness or of rightness or of<br />wrong people and right meanings<br />or the meaning will be hidden<br />or wrestling the demon I will have become<br />restless under the starlight<br />it’s too bright here to think<br />the negatives would be pitch black<br />darkness of a silver mine<br />there are <a href="plant.html">no trees</a> here<br />where have you been where are you now<br />I am no longer here or there<br />you are anywhere or are you<br />up in the clouds is a ghost<br />he is white and blue like a cloud<br />he paints with his teeth<br />he paints the rainbow before midnight<br />that you can see from your window<br />staring out under the sunlight<br />through the gauze curtains<br /><a href="mountain.html">over the high mountain</a> far away<br />that is covered over with snow<br />past the rivers and forests<br />that lie awake under Orion<br />hunting the bull that runs forever<br />just out of his reach<br />pointing the way for the two of us<br />to join together in song or dance<br />or that other thing and sing<br />the Grinch down off Mount Crumpet<br /><a href="moon-drowning.html">his heart breaking his chest</a><br />thumping with the beat<br />his <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUpxmlZ2hyM">little dog too</a> running running<br />with the bull full of laughter and blood<br />he can’t see it anymore because it’s become him<br />we are trapped he says we are<br />trapped in ourselves it turns out<br />that all along it wasn’t you or me<br />but he and her or her and him or<br />he and he or she and she or they<br />even they tell us that nothing has happened<br />even they know that it’s a big joke<br />one more thing to know before the death<br />we are crying like crocodiles<br />before their loved ones’ coffins<br />we are bellowing with grief like buffalo<br />on a berth of wild oxen<br />we are wailing our clothes are in rags<br /><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">we want</a> <a href="fire.html">we want</a> <a href="lovesong.html">we want</a><br />but never can we get<br />what is it<br />we don’t know what it is<br />but it’s something it’s anything<br />it’s too many people or not enough<br />it’s too few trees we need more<br />beavers to build riverdams we need<br />grapes too or <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/245576">plums</a> from the ice box<br />or an ice box even would be nice<br />all I have is this cube isn’t that right<br />or is a sphere a cube a donut a coffee<br />cup your hands in mine yes that’s right<br />now bring the water to your face<br />clear and cool and<br />full of something<br />what is it wanting<br />or yearning<br />I can see in your eyes they’re clear now<br />they are as clear as a running stream<br />or the sky that’s clear right<br />or the water that is in the Bahamas<br />because I hear that’s clear<br />you’re as clear as the sound of a bell<br />you’re as clear as the <a href="table_contents.html">braying of horses</a><br />you’re as clear as the glass in God’s eye<br />and I<br />I’m as dull as an ox plowing<br /><a href="last-passenger.html">through fields in his yoke</a><br />I’m as dull as clouded amber<br />I’m dull as you find me<br />tonight after dinner<br />I’m reading the crossword<br />you’re sitting beside me<br />you’re watching TV.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/README.html b/README.html
index 8040784..2570522 100644
--- a/README.html
+++ b/README.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Autocento of the breakfast table | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="README" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Autocento of the breakfast table</h1>
@@ -45,62 +41,64 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><section id="introduction" class="level2">
+        <section class="content prose">
-<h2>Introduction</h2>
+            <section id="introduction" class="level2">
-<p><em>Autocento <a href="http://www.ibiblio.org/eldritch/owh/abt.html">of the breakfast table</a></em> is a hypertextual exploration of the workings of revision across time. Somebody<sup>[<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Citing_sources#Dealing_with_unsourced_material">citation needed</a>]</sup> once said that every relationship we have is part of the same relationship; the same is true of authorship. As we write, as we continue writing across our lives, patterns thread themselves through our work: images, certain phrases, preoccupations. This project attempts to make those threads more apparent, using the technology of hypertext.</p>
+            <h2>Introduction</h2>
-<p>I’m also an MFA candidate at <a href="http://nau.edu/CAL/English/Degrees-Programs/Graduate/MFA/">Northern Arizona University</a>. This is my thesis.</p>
+            <p><em>Autocento <a href="http://www.ibiblio.org/eldritch/owh/abt.html">of the breakfast table</a></em> is a hypertextual exploration of the workings of revision across time. Somebody<sup>[<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Citing_sources#Dealing_with_unsourced_material">citation needed</a>]</sup> once said that every relationship we have is part of the same relationship; the same is true of authorship. As we write, as we continue writing across our lives, patterns thread themselves through our work: images, certain phrases, preoccupations. This project attempts to make those threads more apparent, using the technology of hypertext.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>I’m also an MFA candidate at <a href="http://nau.edu/CAL/English/Degrees-Programs/Graduate/MFA/">Northern Arizona University</a>. This is my thesis.</p>
-<section id="genesis" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>Genesis</h2>
+            <section id="genesis" class="level2">
-<p>This project revolves around two sister concepts: the <em>hapax legomenon</em> and the <em>cento</em>.</p>
+            <h2>Genesis</h2>
-<p><em>Hapax legomenon</em> (<a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0057:entry=a%28/pac">ἅπαξ</a> λεγόμενον) is Greek for “something said only once.” It’s used in linguistics to describe words that appear only once in a corpus. If expanded to <em>n-grams</em>, it can be used to describe utterances that occur only once, and this is where it gets interesting. If this line of thinking is taken to its logical conclusion, we can say that all writing, all utterances, are <em>hapax legomena</em>, because they appear only once in the world as they are. In short, everything is individual; everything is differentiated; everything is an island.</p>
+            <p>This project revolves around two sister concepts: the <em>hapax legomenon</em> and the <em>cento</em>.</p>
-<p>On the other hand, a <em>cento</em>, from the Latin, from the Greek κέντρόνη, meaning “patchwork garment,” is a poem composed completely of fragments of other poems. It’s a mash-up that makes up for its lack of originality in utterance with a novelty in arrangement. Usually, it refers to taking phrases, lines, or stanzas from other authors’ works, but I don’t see why it couldn’t refer to <em>n-grams</em> or individual words. If <em>this</em> line of thinking is taken to its logical conclusion, we can say that no writing is truly original; that every utterance has, in some scrambled way at least, been uttered before. In other words, nothing is individual. We float on an ocean of language which we did nothing to create, and the best we can hope for is to find some combination that hasn’t been thought of too many times before. As Solomon said, “<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ecclesiastes+1%3A9&amp;version=NIV">There is nothing new under the sun</a>.”</p>
+            <p><em>Hapax legomenon</em> (<a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0057:entry=a%28/pac">ἅπαξ</a> λεγόμενον) is Greek for “something said only once.” It’s used in linguistics to describe words that appear only once in a corpus. If expanded to <em>n-grams</em>, it can be used to describe utterances that occur only once, and this is where it gets interesting. If this line of thinking is taken to its logical conclusion, we can say that all writing, all utterances, are <em>hapax legomena</em>, because they appear only once in the world as they are. In short, everything is individual; everything is differentiated; everything is an island.</p>
-<p><em>Autocento of the breakfast table</em> works within the tension caused by these two concepts.</p>
+            <p>On the other hand, a <em>cento</em>, from the Latin, from the Greek κέντρόνη, meaning “patchwork garment,” is a poem composed completely of fragments of other poems. It’s a mash-up that makes up for its lack of originality in utterance with a novelty in arrangement. Usually, it refers to taking phrases, lines, or stanzas from other authors’ works, but I don’t see why it couldn’t refer to <em>n-grams</em> or individual words. If <em>this</em> line of thinking is taken to its logical conclusion, we can say that no writing is truly original; that every utterance has, in some scrambled way at least, been uttered before. In other words, nothing is individual. We float on an ocean of language which we did nothing to create, and the best we can hope for is to find some combination that hasn’t been thought of too many times before. As Solomon said, “<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ecclesiastes+1%3A9&amp;version=NIV">There is nothing new under the sun</a>.”</p>
-</section>
+            <p><em>Autocento of the breakfast table</em> works within the tension caused by these two concepts.</p>
-<section id="process" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>Process</h2>
+            <section id="process" class="level2">
-<p>In compiling the works that make up this text, I’ve pulled from a few different projects:</p>
+            <h2>Process</h2>
-<ul>
+            <p>In compiling the works that make up this text, I’ve pulled from a few different projects:</p>
-<li><a href="and.html">Elegies for alternate selves</a></li>
+            <ul>
-<li><a href="prelude.html">The book of Hezekiah</a></li>
+            <li><a href="and.html">Elegies for alternate selves</a></li>
-<li><a href="table_contents.html">Stark raving</a></li>
+            <li><a href="prelude.html">The book of Hezekiah</a></li>
-<li><a href="art.html">Buildings out of air</a></li>
+            <li><a href="table_contents.html">Stark raving</a></li>
-</ul>
+            <li><a href="art.html">Buildings out of air</a></li>
-<p>as well as added new articles, written quite recently. As I’ve compiled them into this project, I’ve linked them together based on common images or language, moving back and forth through time. This should give the reader a fair idea of what my head looks like on the inside.</p>
+            </ul>
-</section>
+            <p>as well as added new articles, written quite recently. As I’ve compiled them into this project, I’ve linked them together based on common images or language, moving back and forth through time. This should give the reader a fair idea of what my head looks like on the inside.</p>
-<section id="technology" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>Technology</h2>
+            <section id="technology" class="level2">
-<p>Because this project lives online, I’ve used a fair amount of technology to get it there. First, I converted all the articles<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a> present into plain text files, which are viewable <a href="src/common-titles.html">here</a>. Then, I used John McFarlane’s venerable document preparation system <a href="http://johnmacfarlane.net/pandoc/">pandoc</a>, along with a short <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/compile.lua">script</a>, to compile the text sources to HTML using <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/.template.html">this template</a>. The compiled HTML is what you’re reading now.<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a></p>
+            <h2>Technology</h2>
-<p>To host the project, I’m using <a href="https://github.com/">Github</a>, an online code-collaboration tool with the version control system <a href="http://www.git-scm.com/">git</a> under the hood. This enables me (and you, dear Reader!) to explore the path of revision even more, from beginning to end, based on my commits to the repository. You can view the repository and its changes and files at <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento">my Github profile</a>.<a href="#fn3" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref3"><sup>3</sup></a></p>
+            <p>Because this project lives online, I’ve used a fair amount of technology to get it there. First, I converted all the articles<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a> present into plain text files, which are viewable <a href="src/common-titles.html">here</a>. Then, I used John McFarlane’s venerable document preparation system <a href="http://johnmacfarlane.net/pandoc/">pandoc</a>, along with a short <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/compile.lua">script</a>, to compile the text sources to HTML using <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/.template.html">this template</a>. The compiled HTML is what you’re reading now.<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a></p>
-</section>
+            <p>To host the project, I’m using <a href="https://github.com/">Github</a>, an online code-collaboration tool with the version control system <a href="http://www.git-scm.com/">git</a> under the hood. This enables me (and you, dear Reader!) to explore the path of revision even more, from beginning to end, based on my commits to the repository. You can view the repository and its changes and files at <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento">my Github profile</a>.<a href="#fn3" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref3"><sup>3</sup></a></p>
-<section id="using-this-site" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>Using this site</h2>
+            <section id="using-this-site" class="level2">
-<p>All of the articles on this site are linked together hypertextually (i.e., like a webpage). This means that all you need to do to explore the creative threads linking these articles together is to start clicking links. However, if you find you’re looping around to a lot of the same articles, you can head back to the <a href="first-lines.html">index</a> and click through the titles in order—that article contains the titles of all the other works in this project.</p>
+            <h2>Using this site</h2>
-<p>Alternatively, you can click the lozenge (◊) at the bottom of each page. It’ll take you to a random article in the project, thanks to <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/js/lozenge.js">this javascript</a>.</p>
+            <p>All of the articles on this site are linked together hypertextually (i.e., like a webpage). This means that all you need to do to explore the creative threads linking these articles together is to start clicking links. However, if you find you’re looping around to a lot of the same articles, you can head back to the <a href="first-lines.html">index</a> and click through the titles in order—that article contains the titles of all the other works in this project.</p>
-<p>If you want to experience the earlier projects in something resembling the original orders, previous and next links are provided at the bottom of each page, next to the lozenge. Sometimes, there are more than one of each of these, or there are none, dependant on the structure of their original project.</p>
+            <p>Alternatively, you can click the lozenge (◊) at the bottom of each page. It’ll take you to a random article in the project, thanks to <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/js/lozenge.js">this javascript</a>.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>If you want to experience the earlier projects in something resembling the original orders, previous and next links are provided at the bottom of each page, next to the lozenge. Sometimes, there are more than one of each of these, or there are none, dependant on the structure of their original project.</p>
-<section id="things-still-to-do" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>Things still to do</h2>
+            <section id="things-still-to-do" class="level2">
-<p><em>Autocento of the breakfast table</em> is a work in progress. The first draft is completed, but some revision and aesthetic work remains to be done for me to consider it fully “<a href="published.html">published</a>” (what does this word mean in 2015?). You can see the full list of to-dos by visiting the <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/issues">issues page</a> of the Github site.</p>
+            <h2>Things still to do</h2>
-</section>
+            <p><em>Autocento of the breakfast table</em> is a work in progress. The first draft is completed, but some revision and aesthetic work remains to be done for me to consider it fully “<a href="published.html">published</a>” (what does this word mean in 2015?). You can see the full list of to-dos by visiting the <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/issues">issues page</a> of the Github site.</p>
-<section id="contact-me" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>Contact me</h2>
+            <section id="contact-me" class="level2">
-<p>If you’d like to contact me about the state of this work or my writing in general, you can email me at <script type="text/javascript">
+            <h2>Contact me</h2>
-<!--
+            <p>If you’d like to contact me about the state of this work or my writing in general, you can email me at <script type="text/javascript">
-h='&#x61;&#x75;&#116;&#x6f;&#x63;&#x65;&#110;&#116;&#x6f;&#46;&#x6d;&#x65;';a='&#64;';n='&#x63;&#x61;&#x73;&#x65;';e=n+a+h;
+            <!--
-document.write('<a h'+'ref'+'="ma'+'ilto'+':'+e+'">'+e+'<\/'+'a'+'>');
+            h='&#x61;&#x75;&#116;&#x6f;&#x63;&#x65;&#110;&#116;&#x6f;&#46;&#x6d;&#x65;';a='&#64;';n='&#x63;&#x61;&#x73;&#x65;';e=n+a+h;
-// -->
+            document.write('<a h'+'ref'+'="ma'+'ilto'+':'+e+'">'+e+'<\/'+'a'+'>');
-</script><noscript>&#x63;&#x61;&#x73;&#x65;&#32;&#x61;&#116;&#32;&#x61;&#x75;&#116;&#x6f;&#x63;&#x65;&#110;&#116;&#x6f;&#32;&#100;&#x6f;&#116;&#32;&#x6d;&#x65;</noscript>.</p>
+            // -->
-<!-- links & footnotes -->
+            </script><noscript>&#x63;&#x61;&#x73;&#x65;&#32;&#x61;&#116;&#32;&#x61;&#x75;&#116;&#x6f;&#x63;&#x65;&#110;&#116;&#x6f;&#32;&#100;&#x6f;&#116;&#32;&#x6d;&#x65;</noscript>.</p>
-</section>
+            <!-- links & footnotes -->
-<section class="footnotes">
+            </section>
-<hr />
+            <section class="footnotes">
-<ol>
+            <hr />
-<li id="fn1"><p>I’ve decided to use the word <em>article</em> instead of <em>poem</em>, because not all of the texts included are poems; and instead of <em>piece</em>, because <em>piece</em> is vague and, to my mind, pretentious. I’m aware that the true <a href="http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=article">etymology</a> of <em>article</em> does not reflect my use of it, namely “a little chunk of art”, a la the (personal folk) derivation of <em>icicle</em>, <em>treicle</em>, etc.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
+            <ol>
-<li id="fn2"><p>The great thing about <code>pandoc</code> is that it can compile to, and convert between, about fifty formats or so. This means that if, in the future, I choose to convert this project to a printable form (for example PDF, ODT, or even DOCX), I’ll be able to with a fairly small amount of work.<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn1"><p>I’ve decided to use the word <em>article</em> instead of <em>poem</em>, because not all of the texts included are poems; and instead of <em>piece</em>, because <em>piece</em> is vague and, to my mind, pretentious. I’m aware that the true <a href="http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=article">etymology</a> of <em>article</em> does not reflect my use of it, namely “a little chunk of art”, a la the (personal folk) derivation of <em>icicle</em>, <em>treicle</em>, etc.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
-<li id="fn3"><p>For more information on the technological aspect of this project, see the <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/README.md">README.md</a> file at the root of the github repo.<a href="#fnref3">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn2"><p>The great thing about <code>pandoc</code> is that it can compile to, and convert between, about fifty formats or so. This means that if, in the future, I choose to convert this project to a printable form (for example PDF, ODT, or even DOCX), I’ll be able to with a fairly small amount of work.<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
-</ol>
+            <li id="fn3"><p>For more information on the technological aspect of this project, see the <a href="https://github.com/duckwork/autocento/blob/gh-pages/README.md">README.md</a> file at the root of the github repo.<a href="#fnref3">↩</a></p></li>
-</section></section>
+            </ol>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/about-the-author.html b/about-the-author.html
index cbd82d3..0140358 100644
--- a/about-the-author.html
+++ b/about-the-author.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>About the author | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="about-the-author" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">About the author</h1>
@@ -45,46 +41,48 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><table>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<col style="width: 44%" /><col style="width: 55%" /><tbody>
+            <table>
-<tr class="odd">
+            <col style="width: 44%" /><col style="width: 55%" /><tbody>
-<td style="text-align: left;"><a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">He was born</a> on a few separate occasions</td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em><a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">green traffic lights</a> at night</em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;"><a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">He was born</a> on a few separate occasions</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em><a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">green traffic lights</a> at night</em></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">There was the day of his conception<br />a wintery affair saved for those involved</td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em><a href="options.html">a TV in front of a dumpster</a></em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">There was the day of his conception<br />a wintery affair saved for those involved</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em><a href="options.html">a TV in front of a dumpster</a></em></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">The day he wriggled forth<br />from the dark tunnel of nothing<br /><a href="death-zone.html">his mother’s womb</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em>surprise photo of you at Walgreen’s</em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">The day he wriggled forth<br />from the dark tunnel of nothing<br /><a href="death-zone.html">his mother’s womb</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em>surprise photo of you at Walgreen’s</em></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">The founding of his little city<br />deep inside by the small builders<br />alien as they were and still<br />somehow intimately familiar</td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em>a <a href="in-bed.html">pink dress in the alley</a> behind your house</em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">The founding of his little city<br />deep inside by the small builders<br />alien as they were and still<br />somehow intimately familiar</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em>a <a href="in-bed.html">pink dress in the alley</a> behind your house</em></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">Like any city it had its ups<br />and downs the fever of 1994<br />was especially devastating<br />but they were a hardy folk<br />not much given to flight</td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em>me buying a Reese’s peanut butter cup for a child</em><br /><em>[whose family couldn’t afford it]</em><br /><em><a href="last-bastion.html">in front of me in line at Safeway</a></em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">Like any city it had its ups<br />and downs the fever of 1994<br />was especially devastating<br />but they were a hardy folk<br />not much given to flight</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em>me buying a Reese’s peanut butter cup for a child</em><br /><em>[whose family couldn’t afford it]</em><br /><em><a href="last-bastion.html">in front of me in line at Safeway</a></em></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">As all things must pass the<br />little city began slowly to decay<br />the <a href="creation-myth.html">old ones claimed the young</a><br />had no respect for culture anymore</td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em>trees at night their skeletons</em><br /><em>revealed by a camera flash</em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">As all things must pass the<br />little city began slowly to decay<br />the <a href="creation-myth.html">old ones claimed the young</a><br />had no respect for culture anymore</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em>trees at night their skeletons</em><br /><em>revealed by a camera flash</em></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">They began to die off slowly<br />more quickly than being born<br />the end was coming closer</td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">two earthworms on pavement after a rain</a></em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">They began to die off slowly<br />more quickly than being born<br />the end was coming closer</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">two earthworms on pavement after a rain</a></em></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">As the <a href="last-passenger.html">last breath</a> was made<br />the last accounts closed in the city</td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em>keys tacked to a sign in Buffalo Park</em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">As the <a href="last-passenger.html">last breath</a> was made<br />the last accounts closed in the city</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em>keys tacked to a sign in Buffalo Park</em></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">It was given over to other builders</td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: right;"><em>man flipping a <a href="deadman.html">four-wheeler</a> and walking it off</em></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">It was given over to other builders</td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: right;"><em>man flipping a <a href="deadman.html">four-wheeler</a> and walking it off</em></td>
-</tbody>
+            </tr>
-</table></section>
+            </tbody>
+            </table>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="music-433.html"
diff --git a/about_author.html b/about_author.html
index 82b24cd..40baee8 100644
--- a/about_author.html
+++ b/about_author.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>About Case Duckworth | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="about_author" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">About Case Duckworth</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Case Duckworth is the cowardly but lovable Great Dane who solves mysteries on TV. Maybe you’ve seen him while watching commercials for Pine-Sol or Orange-Glo cleaners. These products dress as monsters to lure only the right kind of venture capitalist, but Duckworth believes in the right of all <a href="love-as-god.html">venture capitalists</a> to invest in products they believe in. His mortal enemy is the evil Old Man Jenkins, who believes that the only venture capitalists that should be allowed to invests are from the Meddling Kids gang of Edo.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>When not being a Great Dane, Duckworth is a Christmas ham, spreading good cheer and pork products to underprivileged gangs of venture capitalists in winter. He keeps them warm with his questionable farming practices and threat of Trichinosis, as well as with his own brand of firestarter called Duckworth Stax. He usually steals his Stax from dog food factories, making him a modern Robin Hood in addition to a Great Dane and Christmas Ham.</p>
+            <p>Case Duckworth is the cowardly but lovable Great Dane who solves mysteries on TV. Maybe you’ve seen him while watching commercials for Pine-Sol or Orange-Glo cleaners. These products dress as monsters to lure only the right kind of venture capitalist, but Duckworth believes in the right of all <a href="love-as-god.html">venture capitalists</a> to invest in products they believe in. His mortal enemy is the evil Old Man Jenkins, who believes that the only venture capitalists that should be allowed to invests are from the Meddling Kids gang of Edo.</p>
-<p>Case Duckworth truly is a jack-of-all-trades. The only thing missing from his repertoire is the ability to begin a word with anything but an “R” sound, although given the fact he is a dog, it’s remarkable he can speak at all. Duckworth was voiced by <a href="http://www.behindthevoiceactors.com/Don-Messick/">Don Messick</a> until his death in 1997, when <a href="http://www.behindthevoiceactors.com/Frank-Welker/">Frank Welker</a> took over, to the dismay of fans everywhere.</p></section>
+            <p>When not being a Great Dane, Duckworth is a Christmas ham, spreading good cheer and pork products to underprivileged gangs of venture capitalists in winter. He keeps them warm with his questionable farming practices and threat of Trichinosis, as well as with his own brand of firestarter called Duckworth Stax. He usually steals his Stax from dog food factories, making him a modern Robin Hood in addition to a Great Dane and Christmas Ham.</p>
+            <p>Case Duckworth truly is a jack-of-all-trades. The only thing missing from his repertoire is the ability to begin a word with anything but an “R” sound, although given the fact he is a dog, it’s remarkable he can speak at all. Duckworth was voiced by <a href="http://www.behindthevoiceactors.com/Don-Messick/">Don Messick</a> until his death in 1997, when <a href="http://www.behindthevoiceactors.com/Frank-Welker/">Frank Welker</a> took over, to the dismay of fans everywhere.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/amber-alert.html b/amber-alert.html
index 8df1c60..1f915e8 100644
--- a/amber-alert.html
+++ b/amber-alert.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>AMBER alert | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="amber-alert" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">AMBER alert</h1>
@@ -53,7 +49,9 @@
                </a>
                        </div>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><a href="lappel-du-vide">Lost things</a> have a way of <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/176996">staying lost</a>. They have to want to be found—is that why we tack up signs, hang socks from hooks in the park, have a box for what’s been lost but now is found? Maybe the lost <em>want</em> to be found but we’re looking in the wrong places. Maybe we speak the wrong language, the language of the found, to call to them. Maybe we should <a href="statements-frag.html">try another door</a>.</p></section>
+        <section class="content prose">
+            <p><a href="lappel-du-vide">Lost things</a> have a way of <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/176996">staying lost</a>. They have to want to be found—is that why we tack up signs, hang socks from hooks in the park, have a box for what’s been lost but now is found? Maybe the lost <em>want</em> to be found but we’re looking in the wrong places. Maybe we speak the wrong language, the language of the found, to call to them. Maybe we should <a href="statements-frag.html">try another door</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="last-bastion.html"
diff --git a/and.html b/and.html
index a9cb27c..695b5b3 100644
--- a/and.html
+++ b/and.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>And | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="and" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">And</h1>
@@ -47,8 +43,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>And you were there in the start of it all<br />and you folded your <a href="cold-wind.html">hands like little doves</a><br />that would fly away like an afterthought<br />and you turned to me the window light on your face<br />and you asked me something that I did not recognize<br />like a great throng of people who are not you<br />and I asked are we in a <a href="boar.html">church</a><br />and you answered with the look on your face<br />of someone <a href="roughgloves.html">grieving something gone</a> for years<br /> but that they had been reminded of<br />by a catch in the light or in someone’s voice<br />and I think maybe it could have been mine<br />and I looked away thickly my head was in jelly<br />and I didn’t get an answer from you but I got one</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I looked at the man in front of us with glasses<br />he was speaking and holding a book<br />and I didn’t understand him he was far away<br />and I could tell I was missing something important<br />and you nodded to yourself at something he said</p></section>
+            <p>And you were there in the start of it all<br />and you folded your <a href="cold-wind.html">hands like little doves</a><br />that would fly away like an afterthought<br />and you turned to me the window light on your face<br />and you asked me something that I did not recognize<br />like a great throng of people who are not you<br />and I asked are we in a <a href="boar.html">church</a><br />and you answered with the look on your face<br />of someone <a href="roughgloves.html">grieving something gone</a> for years<br /> but that they had been reminded of<br />by a catch in the light or in someone’s voice<br />and I think maybe it could have been mine<br />and I looked away thickly my head was in jelly<br />and I didn’t get an answer from you but I got one</p>
+            <p>I looked at the man in front of us with glasses<br />he was speaking and holding a book<br />and I didn’t understand him he was far away<br />and I could tell I was missing something important<br />and you nodded to yourself at something he said</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="howtoread.html"
diff --git a/angeltoabraham.html b/angeltoabraham.html
index 8f239fa..6f74c97 100644
--- a/angeltoabraham.html
+++ b/angeltoabraham.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The angel to Abraham | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="angeltoabraham" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The angel to Abraham</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Abraham, Abraham, you are old and cannot hear:<br />what if you miss my small voice amongst the creaking<br />of your own grief, kill your son unknowing<br />of what he will be, and commit Israel to nothing?</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Abraham, you must know or hope that <a href="boar.html">God</a><br />will not allow your son to die; you must know<br />that this is a test, but then why<br />are you so bent on Isaac’s destruction?<br />Look at your eyes; there is more than fear<br />there. I see in your eyes desperation,<br />a manic passion to do right by your God<br />whom you are not able to see or know.</p>
+            <p>Abraham, Abraham, you are old and cannot hear:<br />what if you miss my small voice amongst the creaking<br />of your own grief, kill your son unknowing<br />of what he will be, and commit Israel to nothing?</p>
-<p>Am I too late? I <a href="i-am.html">will try</a> to stay<br />your old hands, the knife clenched<br />within them, intent on ending life.</p>
+            <p>Abraham, you must know or hope that <a href="boar.html">God</a><br />will not allow your son to die; you must know<br />that this is a test, but then why<br />are you so bent on Isaac’s destruction?<br />Look at your eyes; there is more than fear<br />there. I see in your eyes desperation,<br />a manic passion to do right by your God<br />whom you are not able to see or know.</p>
-<p>Will you hear my small voice amongst the creaking,<br />or will it be the chance bleating of a passing ram?</p></section>
+            <p>Am I too late? I <a href="i-am.html">will try</a> to stay<br />your old hands, the knife clenched<br />within them, intent on ending life.</p>
+            <p>Will you hear my small voice amongst the creaking,<br />or will it be the chance bleating of a passing ram?</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="deadman.html"
diff --git a/apollo11.html b/apollo11.html
index 1ac9258..602fd68 100644
--- a/apollo11.html
+++ b/apollo11.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>On seeing the panorama of the Apollo 11 landing site | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="apollo11" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">On seeing the panorama of the Apollo 11 landing site</h1>
@@ -48,12 +44,14 @@
                </a>
                        </div>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>So it’s the <a href="deathstrumpet.html">fucking moon</a>. Big deal. As if<br />you haven’t seen it before, hanging in the sky<br />like a piece of <a href="roughgloves.html">rotten meat</a> nailed to the wall,</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>a maudlin love letter (the i’s dotted with <a href="proverbs.html">hearts</a>)<br />tacked to the sky’s door like ninety-eight theses.<br />Don’t stare at it like it means anything.</p>
+            <p>So it’s the <a href="deathstrumpet.html">fucking moon</a>. Big deal. As if<br />you haven’t seen it before, hanging in the sky<br />like a piece of <a href="roughgloves.html">rotten meat</a> nailed to the wall,</p>
-<p>Don’t give it the chance to collect meaning<br />from your hand like an old pigeon. Don’t dare ascribe<br />it a will, or call it fickle, or think it has any say</p>
+            <p>a maudlin love letter (the i’s dotted with <a href="proverbs.html">hearts</a>)<br />tacked to the sky’s door like ninety-eight theses.<br />Don’t stare at it like it means anything.</p>
-<p>in your affairs. It’s separated from your life<br />by three hundred eighty-four thousand miles of space,<br />the same distance you stepped away from time that night</p>
+            <p>Don’t give it the chance to collect meaning<br />from your hand like an old pigeon. Don’t dare ascribe<br />it a will, or call it fickle, or think it has any say</p>
-<p>you said your love was broken, a crippled gyroscope<br />knocking in the dark. It was then that time fell apart,<br />had a nervous breakdown and started following you</p>
+            <p>in your affairs. It’s separated from your life<br />by three hundred eighty-four thousand miles of space,<br />the same distance you stepped away from time that night</p>
-<p>everywhere, moonfaced, always asking where you’re going.<br />You keep trying to get away from it but it nuzzles closer<br />and sings you songs that sound like the cooing of a dove<br />that will only escape again into an empty sky at dawn.</p></section>
+            <p>you said your love was broken, a crippled gyroscope<br />knocking in the dark. It was then that time fell apart,<br />had a nervous breakdown and started following you</p>
+            <p>everywhere, moonfaced, always asking where you’re going.<br />You keep trying to get away from it but it nuzzles closer<br />and sings you songs that sound like the cooing of a dove<br />that will only escape again into an empty sky at dawn.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="and.html"
diff --git a/arspoetica.html b/arspoetica.html
index 7f0faeb..40e98a4 100644
--- a/arspoetica.html
+++ b/arspoetica.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Ars poetica | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="arspoetica" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Ars poetica</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>What is poetry? <a href="words-meaning.html">Poetry is.</a> Inasmuch as life is, so is poetry. Here is the problem: life is very big and complex. Human beings are neither. We are small, simple beings that don’t want to know all of the myriad interactions happening all around us, within us, as a part of us, all the hours of every day. We much prefer knowing only that which is just in front of our faces, staring us back with a look of utter contempt. This is why many people are depressed.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Poetry is an attempt made by some to open up our field of view, to maybe check on something else that isn’t staring us in the face so contemptibly. Maybe something else is smiling at us, we think. So we write poetry to force ourselves to look away from the <a href="moongone.html">mirror</a> of our existence to see something else.</p>
+            <p>What is poetry? <a href="words-meaning.html">Poetry is.</a> Inasmuch as life is, so is poetry. Here is the problem: life is very big and complex. Human beings are neither. We are small, simple beings that don’t want to know all of the myriad interactions happening all around us, within us, as a part of us, all the hours of every day. We much prefer knowing only that which is just in front of our faces, staring us back with a look of utter contempt. This is why many people are depressed.</p>
-<p>This is generally painful. To make it less painful, poetry compresses reality a lot to make it more consumable. It takes life, that seawater, and boils it down and boils it down until only the salt remains, the important parts that we can focus on and make some sense of the senselessness of life. Poetry is life bouillon, and to thoroughly enjoy a poem we must put that bouillon back into the seawater of life and make a delicious soup out of it. To make this soup, to decompress the poem into an emotion or life, requires a lot of brainpower. A good reader will have this brainpower. A good poem will not require it.</p>
+            <p>Poetry is an attempt made by some to open up our field of view, to maybe check on something else that isn’t staring us in the face so contemptibly. Maybe something else is smiling at us, we think. So we write poetry to force ourselves to look away from the <a href="moongone.html">mirror</a> of our existence to see something else.</p>
-<p>What this means is: a poem should be self-extracting. It should be a rare vanilla in the bottle, waiting only for someone to open it and sniff it and suddenly there they are, in the orchid that vanilla came from, in the tropical land where it grew next to its brothers and sister vanilla plants. They feel the pain of having their children taken from them. A good poem leaves a feeling of loss and of intense beauty. The reader does nothing to achieve this—they are merely the receptacle of the feeling that the poem forces onto them. In a way, poetry is a crime. But it is the most beautiful crime on this crime-ridden earth.</p></section>
+            <p>This is generally painful. To make it less painful, poetry compresses reality a lot to make it more consumable. It takes life, that seawater, and boils it down and boils it down until only the salt remains, the important parts that we can focus on and make some sense of the senselessness of life. Poetry is life bouillon, and to thoroughly enjoy a poem we must put that bouillon back into the seawater of life and make a delicious soup out of it. To make this soup, to decompress the poem into an emotion or life, requires a lot of brainpower. A good reader will have this brainpower. A good poem will not require it.</p>
+            <p>What this means is: a poem should be self-extracting. It should be a rare vanilla in the bottle, waiting only for someone to open it and sniff it and suddenly there they are, in the orchid that vanilla came from, in the tropical land where it grew next to its brothers and sister vanilla plants. They feel the pain of having their children taken from them. A good poem leaves a feeling of loss and of intense beauty. The reader does nothing to achieve this—they are merely the receptacle of the feeling that the poem forces onto them. In a way, poetry is a crime. But it is the most beautiful crime on this crime-ridden earth.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="apollo11.html"
diff --git a/art.html b/art.html
index 12ff2ff..13fc2d0 100644
--- a/art.html
+++ b/art.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Art | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="art" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Art</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Paul was writing in his diary about art.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><em><a href="ouroboros_memory.html">This is my brain</a></em> he wrote. <em>This is my brain and all it contains. <a href="TODO_BIBLE_LINK">‘I contain multitudes’ said Legion.</a> I think it was Legion.</em> The big heading he had written at the top of the page (<em>ART</em> it read, but only when looking at it from his point of view) sat cold and alone, neglected in the <a href="sense-of-it.html">white space</a> surrounding it. He noticed this presently (but not after he had written a little more about multitudes), paused, frowned, and began to write again.</p>
+            <p>Paul was writing in his diary about art.</p>
-<p><em>ART stands alone at the top of a blank page</em> he wrote. <em>It follows <del>itself in circles</del> its own footprints in a circle around its own name. It leads nowhere but is present everywhere. <del>It contains</del> It contains multitudes. Every painting ever made is a painting of every other painting. Every song is a remix, a <a href="music-433.html">cover version</a>.</em> He crossed out the part about songs for getting off topic. He made a note to himself in the margin—<em>Music is not ART.</em></p></section>
+            <p><em><a href="ouroboros_memory.html">This is my brain</a></em> he wrote. <em>This is my brain and all it contains. <a href="TODO_BIBLE_LINK">‘I contain multitudes’ said Legion.</a> I think it was Legion.</em> The big heading he had written at the top of the page (<em>ART</em> it read, but only when looking at it from his point of view) sat cold and alone, neglected in the <a href="sense-of-it.html">white space</a> surrounding it. He noticed this presently (but not after he had written a little more about multitudes), paused, frowned, and began to write again.</p>
+            <p><em>ART stands alone at the top of a blank page</em> he wrote. <em>It follows <del>itself in circles</del> its own footprints in a circle around its own name. It leads nowhere but is present everywhere. <del>It contains</del> It contains multitudes. Every painting ever made is a painting of every other painting. Every song is a remix, a <a href="music-433.html">cover version</a>.</em> He crossed out the part about songs for getting off topic. He made a note to himself in the margin—<em>Music is not ART.</em></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/axe.html b/axe.html
index 3d72f73..30f5b11 100644
--- a/axe.html
+++ b/axe.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Axe | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="axe" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Axe</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Paul took his axe and went out into the woods to chop trees. Or rather he went into the trees to chop wood. He wasn’t sure. Either way it helped him think. Last time he’d gone out, he’d had an idea for a shoe-insert company he could start called “Paul’s Bunyons.” He chuckled to himself as he shouldered his axe and went into the forest.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Deep into the woods he admired the organization of the trees. “They grow wherever they fall” he said “but still none is too close to another.” He sounded like Solomon to himself. <a href="riptide_memory.html">He imagined he had a beard.</a></p>
+            <p>Paul took his axe and went out into the woods to chop trees. Or rather he went into the trees to chop wood. He wasn’t sure. Either way it helped him think. Last time he’d gone out, he’d had an idea for a shoe-insert company he could start called “Paul’s Bunyons.” He chuckled to himself as he shouldered his axe and went into the forest.</p>
-<p>He walked for a long time in the shadows of the forest, in its coolness. It sounded like snow had fallen but it was still <a href="january.html">October</a>. The first time the trees seemed to radiate out from him in straight lines he stopped and turned around four times. After he walked on he noticed it happened fairly often.</p>
+            <p>Deep into the woods he admired the organization of the trees. “They grow wherever they fall” he said “but still none is too close to another.” He sounded like Solomon to himself. <a href="riptide_memory.html">He imagined he had a beard.</a></p>
-<p>Still, after he felled his first tree that day he realized they grew from the epicenter of his axe. He paused in the <a href="last-bastion.html">small dark sound</a> of the forest quiet.</p></section>
+            <p>He walked for a long time in the shadows of the forest, in its coolness. It sounded like snow had fallen but it was still <a href="january.html">October</a>. The first time the trees seemed to radiate out from him in straight lines he stopped and turned around four times. After he walked on he noticed it happened fairly often.</p>
+            <p>Still, after he felled his first tree that day he realized they grew from the epicenter of his axe. He paused in the <a href="last-bastion.html">small dark sound</a> of the forest quiet.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="dream.html"
diff --git a/big-dipper.html b/big-dipper.html
index 0526ad5..f07f105 100644
--- a/big-dipper.html
+++ b/big-dipper.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The Big Dipper | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="big-dipper" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The Big Dipper</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>After searching for days or even months<br />I finally find it reclining lazily<br /><a href="finding-the-lion.html">above the peaks</a> above the city as if to ask<br />Did you miss me? Yes very much I reply<br />and rush to embrace it but it smiles<br />and recoils and tells me No no you<br />have to try harder than that it says<br />I do not give myself up so easily</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I try a different tack<br />I sing to it bring it flowers nightly<br />I compare its eyes to the morning dew<br />it has not seen the morning dew<br />I say its mouth is the sunset over mountains<br />it knows mountains but the sunset<br />is only a rumor from the Evening Star<br />I tell the Big Dipper that it moves<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">like a quiet river across the earth</a></p>
+            <p>After searching for days or even months<br />I finally find it reclining lazily<br /><a href="finding-the-lion.html">above the peaks</a> above the city as if to ask<br />Did you miss me? Yes very much I reply<br />and rush to embrace it but it smiles<br />and recoils and tells me No no you<br />have to try harder than that it says<br />I do not give myself up so easily</p>
-<p>Rivers I have seen says the Big Dipper<br />they sparkle in the light from my stars<br />Your stars like eyes I say and it smiles<br /><a href="http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/writer">No it says that is too easy</a><br />It turns its back<br />it walks home along the back of the mountain</p></section>
+            <p>I try a different tack<br />I sing to it bring it flowers nightly<br />I compare its eyes to the morning dew<br />it has not seen the morning dew<br />I say its mouth is the sunset over mountains<br />it knows mountains but the sunset<br />is only a rumor from the Evening Star<br />I tell the Big Dipper that it moves<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">like a quiet river across the earth</a></p>
+            <p>Rivers I have seen says the Big Dipper<br />they sparkle in the light from my stars<br />Your stars like eyes I say and it smiles<br /><a href="http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/writer">No it says that is too easy</a><br />It turns its back<br />it walks home along the back of the mountain</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="death-zone.html"
diff --git a/boar.html b/boar.html
index ed9912c..ef7daba 100644
--- a/boar.html
+++ b/boar.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The boar | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="boar" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The boar</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Now the ticking clocks scare me.<br />The <a href="mountain.html">empty</a> rooms, clock towers, belfries;<br />I am terrified by them all.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I really used to enjoy going to church,<br />singing in the choir, listening to the sermon.<br />Now the chairs squeal like dying pigs—</p>
+            <p>Now the ticking clocks scare me.<br />The <a href="mountain.html">empty</a> rooms, clock towers, belfries;<br />I am terrified by them all.</p>
-<p>It was the boar that did it.<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">Fifteen feet</a> from me that night<br />in the grass, rooting for God<br />knows what, finding me instead.</p>
+            <p>I really used to enjoy going to church,<br />singing in the choir, listening to the sermon.<br />Now the chairs squeal like dying pigs—</p>
-<p>I ran, not knowing where or how,<br />not looking for his pursuit of me.<br />I ran to God’s front door, found<br />it locked, found the <a href="i-am.html">house</a> empty</p>
+            <p>It was the boar that did it.<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">Fifteen feet</a> from me that night<br />in the grass, rooting for God<br />knows what, finding me instead.</p>
-<p>with a note saying, “Condemned.”</p></section>
+            <p>I ran, not knowing where or how,<br />not looking for his pursuit of me.<br />I ran to God’s front door, found<br />it locked, found the <a href="i-am.html">house</a> empty</p>
+            <p>with a note saying, “Condemned.”</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html"
diff --git a/boy_bus.html b/boy_bus.html
index 5a20ab9..f4732c4 100644
--- a/boy_bus.html
+++ b/boy_bus.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Boy on the bus | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="boy_bus" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Boy on the bus</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>When he said <a href="mountain.html">Bible</a> I heard his southern accent<br />and he had a face I expect all pastors must have<br />a round open honest face<br />that will always be a boy’s face<br />though its owner may rightly call himself a man<br />near my age though I hardly call myself a man</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I have seen this face before whether in life or a dream<br />I can’t tell<br />I might’ve seen him on the street once<br />twice who knows and his pastor’s <a href="moon-drowning.html">moon face</a><br />reminds me of something<br />some distant light my life used to own</p>
+            <p>When he said <a href="mountain.html">Bible</a> I heard his southern accent<br />and he had a face I expect all pastors must have<br />a round open honest face<br />that will always be a boy’s face<br />though its owner may rightly call himself a man<br />near my age though I hardly call myself a man</p>
-<p><a href="in-bed.html">One night on my birthday the moon was so strong it cast shadows</a><br />I could see to the far hill and back it was all clear to me</p>
+            <p>I have seen this face before whether in life or a dream<br />I can’t tell<br />I might’ve seen him on the street once<br />twice who knows and his pastor’s <a href="moon-drowning.html">moon face</a><br />reminds me of something<br />some distant light my life used to own</p>
-<p>The moon hasn’t done that in a long time<br /><a href="moongone.html">its face has been obscured by clouds</a> for weeks<br />and that boy on the bus his face I’ve forgotten<br />I thought I recognized a good number of people<br />on that bus who I didn’t know at all</p></section>
+            <p><a href="in-bed.html">One night on my birthday the moon was so strong it cast shadows</a><br />I could see to the far hill and back it was all clear to me</p>
+            <p>The moon hasn’t done that in a long time<br /><a href="moongone.html">its face has been obscured by clouds</a> for weeks<br />and that boy on the bus his face I’ve forgotten<br />I thought I recognized a good number of people<br />on that bus who I didn’t know at all</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="lappel-du-vide.html"
diff --git a/building.html b/building.html
index e66e7cd..559d6e0 100644
--- a/building.html
+++ b/building.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Building | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="building" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Building</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em><a href="toilet.html">ART and CRAFT</a> are only the inside and outside of the same building. The ceiling is</em>—here he put his eraser to his bottom lip, thinking. He crossed out <em><del>The ceiling is.</del></em> <em>The floor is reality and the ceiling is <del>aspiration</del> <del>desire</del> that which is desired. CRAFT is building a <a href="boar.html">chair</a> from wood. ART is using the wood as a substrate for an emotional <a href="poetry-time.html">message to a future person</a>, the READER / VIEWER.</em></p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><em>The important thing is they are both made of wood. The important thing is they were both, at one point, alive natural things that grew and changed and pushed their way out of the dirt into the air. They formed buildings out of the air. They didn’t even try.</em></p>
+            <p><em><a href="toilet.html">ART and CRAFT</a> are only the inside and outside of the same building. The ceiling is</em>—here he put his eraser to his bottom lip, thinking. He crossed out <em><del>The ceiling is.</del></em> <em>The floor is reality and the ceiling is <del>aspiration</del> <del>desire</del> that which is desired. CRAFT is building a <a href="boar.html">chair</a> from wood. ART is using the wood as a substrate for an emotional <a href="poetry-time.html">message to a future person</a>, the READER / VIEWER.</em></p>
-<p><em>What separates us from them, the trees? <a href="plant.html">We have to try.</a> We must labor to create our ART, <a href="common-titles.html">our buildings of air</a>. We lay them out brick by brick, we build them up by disintegrating trees and forming them again into what they were before. Why must we do this? Are there any advantages to this human method?</em></p>
+            <p><em>The important thing is they are both made of wood. The important thing is they were both, at one point, alive natural things that grew and changed and pushed their way out of the dirt into the air. They formed buildings out of the air. They didn’t even try.</em></p>
-<p><em>Our advantage is <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">memory</a>. Our advantage is the reaching-out over space and time to others with our words, our ART. Our buildings last for generations, and after they are demolished they are written about, <a href="man.html">photographs</a> are taken, we <strong>remember</strong>. The <a href="riptide_memory.html">act of memory</a> is our only ART.</em></p></section>
+            <p><em>What separates us from them, the trees? <a href="plant.html">We have to try.</a> We must labor to create our ART, <a href="common-titles.html">our buildings of air</a>. We lay them out brick by brick, we build them up by disintegrating trees and forming them again into what they were before. Why must we do this? Are there any advantages to this human method?</em></p>
+            <p><em>Our advantage is <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">memory</a>. Our advantage is the reaching-out over space and time to others with our words, our ART. Our buildings last for generations, and after they are demolished they are written about, <a href="man.html">photographs</a> are taken, we <strong>remember</strong>. The <a href="riptide_memory.html">act of memory</a> is our only ART.</em></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="stagnant.html"
diff --git a/call-me-aural-pleasure.html b/call-me-aural-pleasure.html
index bdffcc0..bd57ecd 100644
--- a/call-me-aural-pleasure.html
+++ b/call-me-aural-pleasure.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Call me | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="call-me-aural-pleasure" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Call me</h1>
@@ -45,9 +41,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Like <em>40</em> as I challenge anyone to come too!<br />It’s like you’re the epitome of lame!<br />She’s all <em>I am SOOOO CONFUSED</em><br />Aw yeah she got <a href="roughgloves.html">word from yarn</a>.<br />—but technically it’s a pretty sweet, huh?</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Dude we were going and delicate fragrance of arguments get based off of are not try<br />dropping glasses in such an emotional rollercoaster you<br />and yes, I’m cocky enough to do anything!<br />I am as good as Phineas and make another picture symphony<br />This is a modification of a young woman to try<br />groups disband after they get your <a href="http://www.meachamwriters.org/index.htm">Meacham stuff</a> please let it<br />RJ Covino, own statuses that’ll be a great</p>
+            <p>Like <em>40</em> as I challenge anyone to come too!<br />It’s like you’re the epitome of lame!<br />She’s all <em>I am SOOOO CONFUSED</em><br />Aw yeah she got <a href="roughgloves.html">word from yarn</a>.<br />—but technically it’s a pretty sweet, huh?</p>
-<p>MY OWN afterbirth can do that<br /><a href="spittle.html">I am 2 we can be KISSED</a> ON THE page.<br />You know I’m not sure that<br />Ben &amp; Jerry’s FTW<br />4/10 would not be able to vote, because I gotta do it<br />This is going to be sad about what<br />Rush Limbaugh comes forward with sunglasses but at least I wasn’t wearing a messenger bag or skinny jeans!<br />The cooler THAN Facebook<br />Wine is the best.<br /> YES I was surprised at first, <a href="http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~deepthi/If_on_a_winter%27s_night_a_traveler.html">but the train one</a>, definitely.<br /> Also Valhalla is a dumbass…<br />But we can get based off of course, Jon.<br />We watched this<br />CELEBRATE FRANKSGIVING TOO!<br />That didn’t get started on that<br />FRANCIS OF VERULAM REASONED THUS WITH the courage to reply.<br />Anyone wanna watch out<br />I am cranky from Bro a good as a way to <a href="x-ray.html">hijack my hand</a>.<br />Afterbend was not to produce photographs.</p></section>
+            <p>Dude we were going and delicate fragrance of arguments get based off of are not try<br />dropping glasses in such an emotional rollercoaster you<br />and yes, I’m cocky enough to do anything!<br />I am as good as Phineas and make another picture symphony<br />This is a modification of a young woman to try<br />groups disband after they get your <a href="http://www.meachamwriters.org/index.htm">Meacham stuff</a> please let it<br />RJ Covino, own statuses that’ll be a great</p>
+            <p>MY OWN afterbirth can do that<br /><a href="spittle.html">I am 2 we can be KISSED</a> ON THE page.<br />You know I’m not sure that<br />Ben &amp; Jerry’s FTW<br />4/10 would not be able to vote, because I gotta do it<br />This is going to be sad about what<br />Rush Limbaugh comes forward with sunglasses but at least I wasn’t wearing a messenger bag or skinny jeans!<br />The cooler THAN Facebook<br />Wine is the best.<br /> YES I was surprised at first, <a href="http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~deepthi/If_on_a_winter%27s_night_a_traveler.html">but the train one</a>, definitely.<br /> Also Valhalla is a dumbass…<br />But we can get based off of course, Jon.<br />We watched this<br />CELEBRATE FRANKSGIVING TOO!<br />That didn’t get started on that<br />FRANCIS OF VERULAM REASONED THUS WITH the courage to reply.<br />Anyone wanna watch out<br />I am cranky from Bro a good as a way to <a href="x-ray.html">hijack my hand</a>.<br />Afterbend was not to produce photographs.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/cereal.html b/cereal.html
index 8d52b7b..dc3b936 100644
--- a/cereal.html
+++ b/cereal.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Cereal | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="cereal" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Cereal</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He woke up after eleven and didn’t go <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">outside</a> all day, not even to his Writing Shack. What did he do?</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>He watched late morning cartoons meant for children too young to go to school. He ate bowls of cereal. He watched his mother play dominoes. He played dominoes with her for a little while until she was winning by such a margin it wasn’t fun for either of them. He went down to the basement to do his <a href="underwear.html">laundry</a>. He pulled the chain for the light and it turned on like magic. “Electricity is like magic” he said to himself. He thought he would like to write that down but his Implements were in the Shack. He’d already built up so much momentum inside.</p>
+            <p>He woke up after eleven and didn’t go <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">outside</a> all day, not even to his Writing Shack. What did he do?</p>
-<p>—Inertia? he thought. “What’s the difference between inertia and momentum” he asked himself as he hefted dirty clothes into the washer. “Maybe inertia is the momentum of not moving” he thought as he measured and poured the blue detergent into the drum. “Momentum is the inertia of moving forward through time” as he selected WARM-COLD on the dial and pulled it out to start the machine. “What do you think is the difference between inertia and momentum” he asked his mother when he opened the door at the top of the stairs.</p>
+            <p>He watched late morning cartoons meant for children too young to go to school. He ate bowls of cereal. He watched his mother play dominoes. He played dominoes with her for a little while until she was winning by such a margin it wasn’t fun for either of them. He went down to the basement to do his <a href="underwear.html">laundry</a>. He pulled the chain for the light and it turned on like magic. “Electricity is like magic” he said to himself. He thought he would like to write that down but his Implements were in the Shack. He’d already built up so much momentum inside.</p>
-<p>“When you switch over your laundry could you bring up my underwear from the dryer” she asked not looking up from her dominoes. A <a href="last-passenger.html">thread of smoke</a> curled from her cigarette and spread out on the ceiling.</p></section>
+            <p>—Inertia? he thought. “What’s the difference between inertia and momentum” he asked himself as he hefted dirty clothes into the washer. “Maybe inertia is the momentum of not moving” he thought as he measured and poured the blue detergent into the drum. “Momentum is the inertia of moving forward through time” as he selected WARM-COLD on the dial and pulled it out to start the machine. “What do you think is the difference between inertia and momentum” he asked his mother when he opened the door at the top of the stairs.</p>
+            <p>“When you switch over your laundry could you bring up my underwear from the dryer” she asked not looking up from her dominoes. A <a href="last-passenger.html">thread of smoke</a> curled from her cigarette and spread out on the ceiling.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="sapling.html"
diff --git a/cold-wind.html b/cold-wind.html
index 6e648b8..cf11e01 100644
--- a/cold-wind.html
+++ b/cold-wind.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Cold wind | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="cold-wind" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Cold wind</h1>
@@ -42,7 +38,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p><a href="january.html">Man of autumn</a>, cold wind,<br />blow down the trees’ leaves.<br /><a href="fire.html">Fire on the ground</a>. The sky<br />perfect water, frost-cold,<br />rippled only by flocks<br /><a href="i-think-its-you.html">of black birds</a> flying, gone.<br />Their brightness can blind<br />an uncareful watcher, work him<br /><a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">in a froth of hands</a>, not-wings<br />that ache with the loss of flight.<br />A tear is flung faithfully<br /><a href="lappel-du-vide.html">to the ocean of air</a>, slipping in<br />slowly, is as gone as the birds.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p><a href="january.html">Man of autumn</a>, cold wind,<br />blow down the trees’ leaves.<br /><a href="fire.html">Fire on the ground</a>. The sky<br />perfect water, frost-cold,<br />rippled only by flocks<br /><a href="i-think-its-you.html">of black birds</a> flying, gone.<br />Their brightness can blind<br />an uncareful watcher, work him<br /><a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">in a froth of hands</a>, not-wings<br />that ache with the loss of flight.<br />A tear is flung faithfully<br /><a href="lappel-du-vide.html">to the ocean of air</a>, slipping in<br />slowly, is as gone as the birds.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/collage-instrument.html b/collage-instrument.html
index d589eb8..3a45e52 100644
--- a/collage-instrument.html
+++ b/collage-instrument.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Instrumented | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="collage-instrument" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Instrumented</h1>
@@ -40,21 +36,23 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><a href="http://man.cx/tr"><code>tr</code></a> has been a part of the Unix toolset since the late 70s. Short for translate or transliterate, <code>tr</code> takes two strings as arguments, and replaces incidences of the first with the second while reading a byte stream. It also supports ranges of characters, in formats such as <code>A-Z</code> as well as the POSIX-compliant <code>[:alpha:]</code>. Although <a href="http://man.cx/sed"><code>sed</code></a> has more options and features, for a quick search-and-replace, <code>tr</code> is more than sufficient.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>The <a href="cold-wind.html">wind blows hard up here</a>—far harder than anywhere else I’ve been. I wonder, at times, if it might <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">pick me up like an angel</a> and carry me into the night.</p>
+            <p><a href="http://man.cx/tr"><code>tr</code></a> has been a part of the Unix toolset since the late 70s. Short for translate or transliterate, <code>tr</code> takes two strings as arguments, and replaces incidences of the first with the second while reading a byte stream. It also supports ranges of characters, in formats such as <code>A-Z</code> as well as the POSIX-compliant <code>[:alpha:]</code>. Although <a href="http://man.cx/sed"><code>sed</code></a> has more options and features, for a quick search-and-replace, <code>tr</code> is more than sufficient.</p>
-<p>The secret to truly great <a href="riptide_memory.html">rolls is mayonnaise</a>. Although I have received looks of disgust at this assertion, I think the explanation is enough to expel doubt: mayonnaise includes the fat, cream and egg content rolls need to be any good, plus in mayonnaise they come premeasured and perfectly blended, which makes for incredibly easy and delicious rolls. After I explain myself, the looks of disgust usually remain.</p>
+            <p>The <a href="cold-wind.html">wind blows hard up here</a>—far harder than anywhere else I’ve been. I wonder, at times, if it might <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">pick me up like an angel</a> and carry me into the night.</p>
-<p>My mother used to make me mayonnaise rolls, and hers will always be the best. I had a teacher in college who explained xenophobia as “Mother’s cooking is best.”</p>
+            <p>The secret to truly great <a href="riptide_memory.html">rolls is mayonnaise</a>. Although I have received looks of disgust at this assertion, I think the explanation is enough to expel doubt: mayonnaise includes the fat, cream and egg content rolls need to be any good, plus in mayonnaise they come premeasured and perfectly blended, which makes for incredibly easy and delicious rolls. After I explain myself, the looks of disgust usually remain.</p>
-<p>One of my favorite fictional theories is the <a href="http://www.voxday.blogspot.com/2015/02/mailvox-marxism-and-shoe-event-horizon.html">Shoe Event Horizon</a>, an economic truth which states that as a society progresses, shoe stores become more and more prevalent. The demand for shoes raises slowly, almost imperceptibly, causing shoe manufacturers to make more and cheaper shoes. This begins a vicious cycle during which more and more shoes are made, more and more cheaply, causing more shoes to be bought, and thus made, until finally the society reaches the Shoe Event Horizon. This is the point at which it becomes economically impossible for any stores but shoe stores to exist. After the economy collapses, the society’s people invariably turn <a href="statements-frag.html">into birds</a>, never to touch ground again.</p>
+            <p>My mother used to make me mayonnaise rolls, and hers will always be the best. I had a teacher in college who explained xenophobia as “Mother’s cooking is best.”</p>
-<p><a href="http://man.cx/awk"><code>awk</code></a> is often used as a command-line stream-editing tool, but it is actually an entire interpreted language. It supports multiple variables and logical structuring, and has been the inspiration for <a href="http://www.perl.org/">Perl</a>, which has largely replaced it. It was originally written in 1977, but over the years has evolved, with multiple implementations made for different uses.</p>
+            <p>One of my favorite fictional theories is the <a href="http://www.voxday.blogspot.com/2015/02/mailvox-marxism-and-shoe-event-horizon.html">Shoe Event Horizon</a>, an economic truth which states that as a society progresses, shoe stores become more and more prevalent. The demand for shoes raises slowly, almost imperceptibly, causing shoe manufacturers to make more and cheaper shoes. This begins a vicious cycle during which more and more shoes are made, more and more cheaply, causing more shoes to be bought, and thus made, until finally the society reaches the Shoe Event Horizon. This is the point at which it becomes economically impossible for any stores but shoe stores to exist. After the economy collapses, the society’s people invariably turn <a href="statements-frag.html">into birds</a>, never to touch ground again.</p>
-<p>The best shoes I ever owned were Franco Fortinis, a brand I have yet to find anywhere else. Sometimes I wonder if I dreamed the shoes, like in stories where the protagonist buys a powerful object from a mysterious store and try to return it after it backfires in some tragic way, only to find the spot where the store stood is an empty lot, or worse, a <a href="building.html">blank brick wall</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="http://man.cx/awk"><code>awk</code></a> is often used as a command-line stream-editing tool, but it is actually an entire interpreted language. It supports multiple variables and logical structuring, and has been the inspiration for <a href="http://www.perl.org/">Perl</a>, which has largely replaced it. It was originally written in 1977, but over the years has evolved, with multiple implementations made for different uses.</p>
-<p>After having moved to Arizona, I fear I will forget what rain is like. I don’t think it’s sandbags falling on the body, and I believe it is cold. I think <em>Daredevil</em>, that piss of a film, has endeared itself to me forever with its depiction of rain.</p>
+            <p>The best shoes I ever owned were Franco Fortinis, a brand I have yet to find anywhere else. Sometimes I wonder if I dreamed the shoes, like in stories where the protagonist buys a powerful object from a mysterious store and try to return it after it backfires in some tragic way, only to find the spot where the store stood is an empty lot, or worse, a <a href="building.html">blank brick wall</a>.</p>
-<p>Recent studies have proven eyewitness testimony to be utterly unreliable. It turns out that memory is not a record set down on the tablet of the brain, but rather a series of impressions, emotions, and physical states that changes even with access. One of my students is having a hard time finding arguments in favor of the use of eyewitness testimony for a paper. This is how obvious the workings of memory are.</p>
+            <p>After having moved to Arizona, I fear I will forget what rain is like. I don’t think it’s sandbags falling on the body, and I believe it is cold. I think <em>Daredevil</em>, that piss of a film, has endeared itself to me forever with its depiction of rain.</p>
-<p>And yet. <a href="early.html">Without our memory we are nothing</a>. Memory is the tether to the floor of the ocean of our past, the ocean is our collective subconscious, which we float on, on the inner tube of individual perception, slathering on the suntan lotion of our prejudices, wearing the sunglasses of self-deception, all underneath the sun of technology. The seagulls of death circle slowly, calling to each other the call of their society, secret in its machinations.</p>
+            <p>Recent studies have proven eyewitness testimony to be utterly unreliable. It turns out that memory is not a record set down on the tablet of the brain, but rather a series of impressions, emotions, and physical states that changes even with access. One of my students is having a hard time finding arguments in favor of the use of eyewitness testimony for a paper. This is how obvious the workings of memory are.</p>
-<p>My father told me that once, when swimming, a rip tide pulled him far out to sea. He said it was impossible to tell until it was too late. The shore simply receded too slowly. He never told me how he made it back, but I imagine him, bearded, beached, coughing up saltwater: a new shipwrecked victim.</p>
+            <p>And yet. <a href="early.html">Without our memory we are nothing</a>. Memory is the tether to the floor of the ocean of our past, the ocean is our collective subconscious, which we float on, on the inner tube of individual perception, slathering on the suntan lotion of our prejudices, wearing the sunglasses of self-deception, all underneath the sun of technology. The seagulls of death circle slowly, calling to each other the call of their society, secret in its machinations.</p>
-<p><a href="http://man.cx/grep"><code>grep</code></a> is a basic search tool for UNIX-based systems. It has a robust syntax, though I’ve had trouble remembering the regex nuances between it, <code>sed</code>’s, and <code>perl</code>’s. There is a POSIX standard, but no one follows standards.</p>
+            <p>My father told me that once, when swimming, a rip tide pulled him far out to sea. He said it was impossible to tell until it was too late. The shore simply receded too slowly. He never told me how he made it back, but I imagine him, bearded, beached, coughing up saltwater: a new shipwrecked victim.</p>
-<p>My mother loves Annie Dillard. She always talks about the praying mantis egg case scene: Dillard could never find a praying mantis egg case, until she finally saw one by accident. After that, she saw them everywhere.</p>
+            <p><a href="http://man.cx/grep"><code>grep</code></a> is a basic search tool for UNIX-based systems. It has a robust syntax, though I’ve had trouble remembering the regex nuances between it, <code>sed</code>’s, and <code>perl</code>’s. There is a POSIX standard, but no one follows standards.</p>
-<p>My mother showed me an egg case once. I haven’t seen one since.</p>
+            <p>My mother loves Annie Dillard. She always talks about the praying mantis egg case scene: Dillard could never find a praying mantis egg case, until she finally saw one by accident. After that, she saw them everywhere.</p>
-<p>My friend Steven has over three hundred pairs of shoes. He tells me his goal is eventually to obtain a calendar of shoes, and wear a different one each day of the year. He doesn’t include the forty days of Lent, however. <a href="leg.html">He goes barefoot those forty days</a>.</p></section>
+            <p>My mother showed me an egg case once. I haven’t seen one since.</p>
+            <p>My friend Steven has over three hundred pairs of shoes. He tells me his goal is eventually to obtain a calendar of shoes, and wear a different one each day of the year. He doesn’t include the forty days of Lent, however. <a href="leg.html">He goes barefoot those forty days</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
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            <h1 class="title">Autocento of the breakfast table</h1>
@@ -45,23 +41,25 @@
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-        <section class="content verse"><p><a href="100-lines.html">100 lines</a> <a href="about-the-author.html">about the author</a>, <a href="about_author.html">Case Duckworth</a> (née <a href="amber-alert.html">Amber): alert</a>!</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p><a href="and.html">And</a> <a href="angeltoabraham.html">the angel, to Abraham</a>, <a href="apollo11.html">on seeing the panorama<br />of the Apollo 11 landing site</a>: “<a href="arspoetica.html">Ars poetica</a>: <a href="art.html">art</a>, an <a href="axe.html">axe</a>,<br /><a href="big-dipper.html">the big dipper</a> and <a href="boar.html">the boar</a>. The <a href="boy_bus.html">boy on the bus</a> is <a href="building.html">building</a>.<br /><a href="call-me-aural-pleasure.html">Call me</a> <a href="cereal.html"><em>Cereal</em></a> or <a href="cold-wind.html"><em>Cold Wind</em></a>.<br /><a href="collage-instrumented.html">Instrument</a> a collage.”</p>
+            <p><a href="100-lines.html">100 lines</a> <a href="about-the-author.html">about the author</a>, <a href="about_author.html">Case Duckworth</a> (née <a href="amber-alert.html">Amber): alert</a>!</p>
-<p><a href="creation-myth.html">Creation myth</a>: <a href="deadman.html">dead man</a> = <a href="death-zone.html">the death zone</a> =<br /><a href="deathstrumpet.html">Death’s trumpet</a>. <a href="dream.html">Dream</a> <a href="early.html">early</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="and.html">And</a> <a href="angeltoabraham.html">the angel, to Abraham</a>, <a href="apollo11.html">on seeing the panorama<br />of the Apollo 11 landing site</a>: “<a href="arspoetica.html">Ars poetica</a>: <a href="art.html">art</a>, an <a href="axe.html">axe</a>,<br /><a href="big-dipper.html">the big dipper</a> and <a href="boar.html">the boar</a>. The <a href="boy_bus.html">boy on the bus</a> is <a href="building.html">building</a>.<br /><a href="call-me-aural-pleasure.html">Call me</a> <a href="cereal.html"><em>Cereal</em></a> or <a href="cold-wind.html"><em>Cold Wind</em></a>.<br /><a href="collage-instrumented.html">Instrument</a> a collage.”</p>
-<p><a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">Elegy for an alternate self:</a> an <a href="epigraph.html">epigraph</a>,<br /><a href="ex-machina.html"><em>ex machina</em></a> and <a href="exasperated.html">exasperated</a>; <a href="father.html">Father</a> <a href="feedingtheraven.html">feeding<br />the raven</a>, <a href="finding-the-lion.html">finding the lion</a>, setting a <a href="fire.html">fire</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="creation-myth.html">Creation myth</a>: <a href="deadman.html">dead man</a> = <a href="death-zone.html">the death zone</a> =<br /><a href="deathstrumpet.html">Death’s trumpet</a>. <a href="dream.html">Dream</a> <a href="early.html">early</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">Look</a>: <a href="hands.html">hands</a>-<a href="on-genre-dimension.html">on poetry</a>!<br /><a href="hard-game.html">A hard game</a>: <a href="hardware.html">hardware</a>.<br />(<a href="howithappened.html">How it happened</a>?)<br /> <a href="howtoread.html">How to read this</a> <a href="hymnal.html">hymnal</a>:<br />“<a href="i-am.html">I am</a>.” “<a href="i-think-its-you.html">I think it’s<br />you (but it’s not)</a>.”</p>
+            <p><a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">Elegy for an alternate self:</a> an <a href="epigraph.html">epigraph</a>,<br /><a href="ex-machina.html"><em>ex machina</em></a> and <a href="exasperated.html">exasperated</a>; <a href="father.html">Father</a> <a href="feedingtheraven.html">feeding<br />the raven</a>, <a href="finding-the-lion.html">finding the lion</a>, setting a <a href="fire.html">fire</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">I wanted to tell you something</a> <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a>—<br /><a href="i-want-to-say.html">I want to say</a> the <a href="initial-conditions.html">initial conditions</a> of <a href="january.html">January</a>’s <a href="joke.html">joke</a> are <a href="lappel-du-vide.html"><em>l’appel du vide</em></a>.<br /><a href="largest-asteroid.html">The largest asteroid in the asteroid belt</a> is the <a href="last-bastion.html">last bastion</a>,<br />the <a href="last-passenger.html">last passenger</a> <a href="leaf.html">leaf</a>, the <a href="leg.html">leg</a> <a href="likingthings.html">liking things</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">Look</a>: <a href="hands.html">hands</a>-<a href="on-genre-dimension.html">on poetry</a>!<br /><a href="hard-game.html">A hard game</a>: <a href="hardware.html">hardware</a>.<br />(<a href="howithappened.html">How it happened</a>?)<br /> <a href="howtoread.html">How to read this</a> <a href="hymnal.html">hymnal</a>:<br />“<a href="i-am.html">I am</a>.” “<a href="i-think-its-you.html">I think it’s<br />you (but it’s not)</a>.”</p>
-<p><a href="listen.html">Listen</a>: <a href="love-as-god.html">love as God</a> loves, better<br />than a <a href="lovesong.html">love song</a>, <a href="man.html">man</a>. This is<br />a <a href="manifesto_poetics.html">manifesto</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">I wanted to tell you something</a> <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a>—<br /><a href="i-want-to-say.html">I want to say</a> the <a href="initial-conditions.html">initial conditions</a> of <a href="january.html">January</a>’s <a href="joke.html">joke</a> are <a href="lappel-du-vide.html"><em>l’appel du vide</em></a>.<br /><a href="largest-asteroid.html">The largest asteroid in the asteroid belt</a> is the <a href="last-bastion.html">last bastion</a>,<br />the <a href="last-passenger.html">last passenger</a> <a href="leaf.html">leaf</a>, the <a href="leg.html">leg</a> <a href="likingthings.html">liking things</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="moon-drowning.html">The moon is drowning</a>. <a href="moongone.html">The moon is gone,<br />and in its place: a mirror</a>. <a href="mountain.html">The mountain</a>’s<br /><a href="movingsideways.html">moving sideways</a>, <a href="music-433.html">something about all music<br />being performances of <em>4′33″</em> in places<br />where other bands happen to be playing</a>. Listen:<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">no nothing</a>, no <a href="notes.html">notes</a>, <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html"><em>nothing</em> is ever over</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="listen.html">Listen</a>: <a href="love-as-god.html">love as God</a> loves, better<br />than a <a href="lovesong.html">love song</a>, <a href="man.html">man</a>. This is<br />a <a href="manifesto_poetics.html">manifesto</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="onformalpoetry.html">On formal poetry</a>, <a href="options.html">options</a>:<br />an <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">ouroboros of memory</a>, <a href="paul.html"><em>Paul</em></a>, <a href="philosophy.html">philosophy</a>,<br /><a href="phone.html">phone</a>s, or <a href="planks.html">planks</a>. A <a href="plant.html">litany for a plant</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="moon-drowning.html">The moon is drowning</a>. <a href="moongone.html">The moon is gone,<br />and in its place: a mirror</a>. <a href="mountain.html">The mountain</a>’s<br /><a href="movingsideways.html">moving sideways</a>, <a href="music-433.html">something about all music<br />being performances of <em>4′33″</em> in places<br />where other bands happen to be playing</a>. Listen:<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">no nothing</a>, no <a href="notes.html">notes</a>, <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html"><em>nothing</em> is ever over</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="poetry-time.html">Something about the nature<br />of poetry and time</a>: <a href="prelude.html">prelude</a>, <a href="problems.html">problems</a>, <a href="proverbs.html">proverbs</a>,<br />some <a href="peaches.html">peaches</a>. <a href="punch.html">Punch</a> is <a href="purpose-dogs.html">the purpose of dogs</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="onformalpoetry.html">On formal poetry</a>, <a href="options.html">options</a>:<br />an <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">ouroboros of memory</a>, <a href="paul.html"><em>Paul</em></a>, <a href="philosophy.html">philosophy</a>,<br /><a href="phone.html">phone</a>s, or <a href="planks.html">planks</a>. A <a href="plant.html">litany for a plant</a>.</p>
-<p>A <a href="question.html">question</a>: if <a href="real-writer.html">a real writer</a> <a href="reports.html">reports</a> on<br />the <a href="riptide_memory.html">riptide of memory</a>, does <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">Ronald McDonald</a><br />wear <a href="roughgloves.html">rough gloves</a> or a <a href="sapling.html">sapling</a>?</p>
+            <p><a href="poetry-time.html">Something about the nature<br />of poetry and time</a>: <a href="prelude.html">prelude</a>, <a href="problems.html">problems</a>, <a href="proverbs.html">proverbs</a>,<br />some <a href="peaches.html">peaches</a>. <a href="punch.html">Punch</a> is <a href="purpose-dogs.html">the purpose of dogs</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Seasonal affective disorder</a> is part of the <a href="sense-of-it.html">sense of it</a>.<br />The <a href="serengeti.html">serengeti</a> is a <a href="shed.html">shed</a>. <a href="shipwright.html">The shipwright</a><br />builds <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">the sixteenth chapel</a> in <a href="snow.html">snow</a>.</p>
+            <p>A <a href="question.html">question</a>: if <a href="real-writer.html">a real writer</a> <a href="reports.html">reports</a> on<br />the <a href="riptide_memory.html">riptide of memory</a>, does <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">Ronald McDonald</a><br />wear <a href="roughgloves.html">rough gloves</a> or a <a href="sapling.html">sapling</a>?</p>
-<p><a href="something-simple.html">Let’s start with something simple</a>:<br /><a href="spittle.html">spittle</a> on <a href="squirrel.html">the squirrel</a> sitting <a href="stagnant.html">stagnant</a>.<br /><a href="dollywood.html">Something about my tenure as a bear</a>. <a href="statements-frag.html">Statements</a> <a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">stayed on the bus too long</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Seasonal affective disorder</a> is part of the <a href="sense-of-it.html">sense of it</a>.<br />The <a href="serengeti.html">serengeti</a> is a <a href="shed.html">shed</a>. <a href="shipwright.html">The shipwright</a><br />builds <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">the sixteenth chapel</a> in <a href="snow.html">snow</a>.</p>
-<p>A <a href="stump.html">stump</a> is not a <a href="swansong-alt.html">swansong</a> is not a <a href="swansong.html"><em>swan</em>, Song</a>.<br /> <a href="swear.html">Swear</a> the <a href="table_contents.html">table of contents</a> is a <a href="tapestry.html">tapestry</a>.<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">Telemarketer</a>s swear that <a href="the-night-we-met.html">the night we met, I<br />was out of my mind</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="something-simple.html">Let’s start with something simple</a>:<br /><a href="spittle.html">spittle</a> on <a href="squirrel.html">the squirrel</a> sitting <a href="stagnant.html">stagnant</a>.<br /><a href="dollywood.html">Something about my tenure as a bear</a>. <a href="statements-frag.html">Statements</a> <a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">stayed on the bus too long</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">The sea and the beach</a>, even <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">the ocean overflows<br />with camels</a>. <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">Time looks up to the sky</a>,<br /><a href="todaniel.html">to Daniel</a> on the <a href="toilet.html">toilet</a> writing “<a href="toothpaste.html">Toothpaste</a>,”<br />a <a href="treatise.html">treatise</a> on <a href="underwear.html">underwear</a> and <a href="wallpaper.html">wallpaper</a>.</p>
+            <p>A <a href="stump.html">stump</a> is not a <a href="swansong-alt.html">swansong</a> is not a <a href="swansong.html"><em>swan</em>, Song</a>.<br /> <a href="swear.html">Swear</a> the <a href="table_contents.html">table of contents</a> is a <a href="tapestry.html">tapestry</a>.<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">Telemarketer</a>s swear that <a href="the-night-we-met.html">the night we met, I<br />was out of my mind</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">We played those games too</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">The sea and the beach</a>, even <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">the ocean overflows<br />with camels</a>. <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">Time looks up to the sky</a>,<br /><a href="todaniel.html">to Daniel</a> on the <a href="toilet.html">toilet</a> writing “<a href="toothpaste.html">Toothpaste</a>,”<br />a <a href="treatise.html">treatise</a> on <a href="underwear.html">underwear</a> and <a href="wallpaper.html">wallpaper</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">When I’m sorry I wash dishes</a> in the <a href="window.html">window</a>, <a href="walking-in-the-rain.html">walking<br />in the rain</a>, thinking about <a href="what-we-are-made-of.html">what we are made of</a>: <a href="words-meaning.html">words and meaning</a>, <a href="words-irritable-reaching.html">irritably reaching after reason</a>. I feel <a href="worse-looking-over.html">worse,<br />looking over</a> at you, than when I’m <a href="writing.html">writing</a><br />an <a href="x-ray.html">x-ray</a> in <a href="yellow.html">yellow</a>.</p></section>
+            <p><a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">We played those games too</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">When I’m sorry I wash dishes</a> in the <a href="window.html">window</a>, <a href="walking-in-the-rain.html">walking<br />in the rain</a>, thinking about <a href="what-we-are-made-of.html">what we are made of</a>: <a href="words-meaning.html">words and meaning</a>, <a href="words-irritable-reaching.html">irritably reaching after reason</a>. I feel <a href="worse-looking-over.html">worse,<br />looking over</a> at you, than when I’m <a href="writing.html">writing</a><br />an <a href="x-ray.html">x-ray</a> in <a href="yellow.html">yellow</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
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diff --git a/creation-myth.html b/creation-myth.html
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Creation myth | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="creation-myth" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Creation myth</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>So two hyperintelligent pandimensional beings<br />walk into a bar. One turns to the other and says,<br />“Did you remember to check the end state<br />of that simulation we were running?” The other<br />says, “No, I thought that you did?” To which<br />the first replies, “<a href="movingsideways.html">Oh shit</a>, we missed it.<br />I suppose we must do all of this again. Barkeep,</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>two beers please.&quot; The bartender nods in that way<br />that bartenders do, pours the two beers,<br />expertly, by the way, just so, and hands them<br />to the first <a href="http://hitchhikers.wikia.com/wiki/Mice">hyperintelligent pandimensional</a> being.<br />The second one pulls a few singles out of his<br />wallet, places them on the bar, and the pair<br />turn around and begin walking toward a table<br />in the middle of the mostly-empty bar. The bar-<br />tender picks up the money, fans it out, frowns,<br />and calls to his patrons’ backs: “Hey, this<br />isn’t enough!” The two turn around simultan-<br />eously, with parity, and stare at him. A beat.</p>
+            <p>So two hyperintelligent pandimensional beings<br />walk into a bar. One turns to the other and says,<br />“Did you remember to check the end state<br />of that simulation we were running?” The other<br />says, “No, I thought that you did?” To which<br />the first replies, “<a href="movingsideways.html">Oh shit</a>, we missed it.<br />I suppose we must do all of this again. Barkeep,</p>
-<p>One of them, the one without the beer, breaks<br />the silence by exclaiming, “Oh dear god, I’m<br />sorry! I didn’t know your prices went up since<br />last time. What do I owe you?” The bartender<br />says, “Oh, just another <a href="100-lines.html">dollar</a>-fifty.” The being<br />reaches in his back pocket, slides out his<br />wallet, looks in smiling, and frowns when he sees<br />it’s empty. He looks to the other and says,<br />“You got a <a href="plant.html">buck</a>-fifty I can borrow?”</p>
+            <p>two beers please.&quot; The bartender nods in that way<br />that bartenders do, pours the two beers,<br />expertly, by the way, just so, and hands them<br />to the first <a href="http://hitchhikers.wikia.com/wiki/Mice">hyperintelligent pandimensional</a> being.<br />The second one pulls a few singles out of his<br />wallet, places them on the bar, and the pair<br />turn around and begin walking toward a table<br />in the middle of the mostly-empty bar. The bar-<br />tender picks up the money, fans it out, frowns,<br />and calls to his patrons’ backs: “Hey, this<br />isn’t enough!” The two turn around simultan-<br />eously, with parity, and stare at him. A beat.</p>
-<p>The second hyperintelligent pandimensional being<br />considers this. He sets the beers down<br />on the table, pulls out his own wallet, opens<br />it, and frowns. “I’m broke too,” he says.</p></section>
+            <p>One of them, the one without the beer, breaks<br />the silence by exclaiming, “Oh dear god, I’m<br />sorry! I didn’t know your prices went up since<br />last time. What do I owe you?” The bartender<br />says, “Oh, just another <a href="100-lines.html">dollar</a>-fifty.” The being<br />reaches in his back pocket, slides out his<br />wallet, looks in smiling, and frowns when he sees<br />it’s empty. He looks to the other and says,<br />“You got a <a href="plant.html">buck</a>-fifty I can borrow?”</p>
+            <p>The second hyperintelligent pandimensional being<br />considers this. He sets the beers down<br />on the table, pulls out his own wallet, opens<br />it, and frowns. “I’m broke too,” he says.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/css/autocento.css b/css/autocento.css
deleted file mode 100644
index e69de29..0000000
--- a/css/autocento.css
+++ /dev/null

diff --git a/css/common.css b/css/common.css
deleted file mode 100644
index 8ae3f8b..0000000
--- a/css/common.css
+++ /dev/null

@@ -1,257 +0,0 @@
-/* Common CSS for all of Autocento at the breakfast table
- * vim: fdm=marker
- */
-/* IMPORTS {{{ */
-/* Playfair Display (headings) */
-@import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display:400,700,400italic,700italic&subset=latin,latin-ext);
-/* Linux Libertine (body) */
-@import url("fonts/libertine.css");
-/* @import url("fonts/courier-prime.css");
- * ^^^^^^ for typewriter pages in Paul */
-/* imports }}} */
-/* LAYOUT {{{ */
-html, body {
-    margin: 0;
-    padding: 0;
-    font-family: "Libertine", serif;
-    font-size: 100%; /* = 12pt = 16px */
-}
-html { height: 100%; }
-body {
-    position: absolute;
-    top: 0;
-    left: 0;
-    right: 0;
-    min-height: 100%;
-    padding-left: 1em;
-    padding-right: 1em;
-}
-header {
-    max-width: 39em;
-    margin: auto;
-    text-align: center;
-    border-bottom: 1px solid black;
-    padding: 1em 0;
-    margin-bottom: 1em;
-}
-.title {
-    text-align: left;
-    display: inline-block;
-}
-.subtitle {
-    text-align: center;
-    display: block;
-}
-.dedication {
-    text-align: left;
-}
-#container {
-    /* max-width: 39em; */
-    margin: 0 auto;
-    padding-bottom: 30px;
-}
-.content p:first-child {
-    margin-top: 0
-}
-.content {
-    line-height: 1.3em;
-}
-blockquote {
-    border-left: 1px solid gray;
-    padding-left: 2em;
-    margin-left: 2em;
-    font-style: italic;
-}
-nav {
-    height: 24px;
-    width: 100%;
-    position: absolute;
-    bottom: 0;
-    left: 0;
-    text-align: center;
-}
-.footnotes {
-    font-size: 0.85em;
-    width: 100%;
-    position: absolute;
-    top: 100%;
-    left: 0;
-}
-.footnotes li {
-    margin-right: 2em;
-    border-bottom: 1px solid gray;
-    max-width: 45em;
-    margin: auto;
-}
-.footnotes li:last-child {
-    border-bottom: none;
-}
-/* layout }}} */
-/* HEADINGS {{{ */
-.title {
-    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
-    font-size: 1.5em;
-    /* font-weight: bold; */
-    font-weight: 400;
-    letter-spacing: 0.1em;
-    text-transform: uppercase;
-    margin: 0;
-}
-.subtitle {
-    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
-    font-size: 1.25em;
-    font-style: italic;
-    font-weight: 400;
-    /* position: relative; */
-    /* top: -0.5em; */
-    margin-top: 0;
-    margin-bottom: 0;
-}
-h2 {
-    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
-    font-size: 1em;
-    font-weight: 600;
-}
-header {
-    position: relative;
-}
-/* headings }}} */
-/* LINKS {{{ */
-a:link {
-    padding-top: 1px;
-    color: inherit;
-    text-decoration: none;
-    border-bottom: 1px dotted black;
-}
-a:visited {
-    color: inherit;
-}
-a:hover {
-    /* text-decoration: underline; */
-    border-bottom: 1px solid black;
-}
-a:active {
-    /* text-decoration: underline; */
-    border-bottom: 1px solid black;
-}
-/* External Links */
-a[href^="http"]:link {
-    text-decoration: none;
-    border-bottom: 1px dotted #a1a3a1;
-}
-a[href^="http"]:visited {
-}
-a[href^="http"]:hover {
-    border-bottom: 1px dashed black;
-}
-a[href^="http"]:active {
-    border-bottom: 1px dashed black;
-}
-/* links }}} */
-/* IMAGES {{{ */
-.ekphrastic {
-    max-width: 41em;
-    /* margin-top: -1em; */
-    margin-bottom: 1em;
-    margin-left: auto;
-    margin-right: auto;
-    text-align: center;
-}
-.ekphrastic a:link { border: none; }
-img {
-    max-width: 100%;
-    margin: auto;
-}
-/* images }}} */
-/* HEADER-EXTRA {{{ */
-.header-extra {
-    text-align: right;
-}
-.dedication,.epigraph {
-    vertical-align: bottom;
-    display: inline-block;
-    margin-left: 2%;
-    margin-right: 2%;
-    width: 45%;
-}
-/* DEDICATION {{{ */
-.dedication {
-    font-style: italic;
-    font-size: 0.92em;
-    margin-top: 1em;
-}
-.dedication::before {
-    content: 'for ';
-    font-style: italic;
-}
-.dedication:only-child {
-    text-align: right;
-}
-/* dedication }}} */
-/* EPIGRAPH {{{ */
-.epigraph {
-    text-align: right;
-    font-size: 0.92em;
-    font-style: italic;
-    margin-top: 1em;
-}
-.epigraph p {
-    margin: 0;
-}
-.epigraph .attrib {
-    text-align: right;
-    margin-top: 0;
-    font-size: 0.92em;
-    font-style: normal;
-}
-.epigraph .attrib::before {
-    content: '– ';
-}
-/* epigraph }}} */
-/* header-extra }}} */
-/* NAV {{{ */
-nav a:link { border-bottom: none; }
-nav a:active { border: none; }
-nav .prevlink { float: left; text-align: left; }
-nav .nextlink { float: right; text-align: right; }
-/* Properties both types of navlinks share */
-nav .prevlink, nav .nextlink {
-    margin: 0 0.5em;
-    width: 20%;
-    display: block;
-    font-size: 0.85em;
-    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
-    font-style: italic;
-    text-transform: lowercase;
-    height: 20px;
-    overflow: hidden;
-    text-overflow: ellipsis;
-    text-decoration: none;
-    position: relative;
-}
-nav .prevlink::before {
-    content: ' «';
-    font-style: normal;
-}
-nav .nextlink::after {
-    content: ' »';
-    font-style: normal;
-}
-#lozenge {
-    position: absolute;
-    left: 50%;
-    text-decoration: none;
-}
-/* nav }}} */
-/* FOOTNOTES {{{ */
-.footnotes p::first-line {
-    font-variant: normal !important;
-}
-.footnotes a[href^="#fnref"] {
-    float: right;
-}
-a.footnoteRef {
-    border: none;
-}
-/* footnotes }}} */
diff --git a/css/cover.css b/css/cover.css
deleted file mode 100644
index f285bf4..0000000
--- a/css/cover.css
+++ /dev/null

@@ -1,137 +0,0 @@
-/* vim: fdm=marker
- */
-@import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display:400,700,400italic,700italic&subset=latin,latin-ext);
-/* Flexboxing {{{ */
-#cover {
-    position: absolute;
-    top: 0;
-    bottom: 0;
-    left: 0;
-    right: 0;
-    display: -webkit-box;
-    display: -moz-box;
-    display: -ms-flexbox;
-    display: -webkit-flex;
-    display: flex;
-    -webkit-box-direction: normal;
-    -moz-box-direction: normal;
-    -webkit-box-orient: vertical;
-    -moz-box-orient: vertical;
-    -webkit-flex-direction: column;
-    -ms-flex-direction: column;
-    flex-direction: column;
-    -webkit-flex-wrap: nowrap;
-    -ms-flex-wrap: nowrap;
-    flex-wrap: nowrap;
-    -webkit-box-pack: center;
-    -moz-box-pack: center;
-    -webkit-justify-content: center;
-    -ms-flex-pack: center;
-    justify-content: center;
-    -webkit-align-content: center;
-    -ms-flex-line-pack: center;
-    align-content: center;
-    -webkit-box-align: center;
-    -moz-box-align: center;
-    -webkit-align-items: center;
-    -ms-flex-align: center;
-    align-items: center;
-    }
-.title {
-    -webkit-box-ordinal-group: 1;
-    -moz-box-ordinal-group: 1;
-    -webkit-order: 0;
-    -ms-flex-order: 0;
-    order: 0;
-    -webkit-box-flex: 0;
-    -moz-box-flex: 0;
-    -webkit-flex: 0 1 auto;
-    -ms-flex: 0 1 auto;
-    flex: 0 1 auto;
-    -webkit-align-self: auto;
-    -ms-flex-item-align: auto;
-    align-self: auto;
-}
-.byline {
-    -webkit-box-ordinal-group: 1;
-    -moz-box-ordinal-group: 1;
-    -webkit-order: 0;
-    -ms-flex-order: 0;
-    order: 0;
-    -webkit-box-flex: 0;
-    -moz-box-flex: 0;
-    -webkit-flex: 0 1 auto;
-    -ms-flex: 0 1 auto;
-    flex: 0 1 auto;
-    -webkit-align-self: auto;
-    -ms-flex-item-align: auto;
-    align-self: auto;
-}
-.lozenge {
-    -webkit-box-ordinal-group: 1;
-    -moz-box-ordinal-group: 1;
-    -webkit-order: 0;
-    -ms-flex-order: 0;
-    order: 0;
-    -webkit-box-flex: 0;
-    -moz-box-flex: 0;
-    -webkit-flex: 0 1 auto;
-    -ms-flex: 0 1 auto;
-    flex: 0 1 auto;
-    -webkit-align-self: auto;
-    -ms-flex-item-align: auto;
-    align-self: auto;
-}
-/* }}} */
-body {
-    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
-    font-weight: 400;
-    font-size: 100%;
-    color: #b2d9e5;
-}
-#cover {
-    background-image: url('../img/black-streak.jpg');
-    background-position: 0 0;
-    background-size: 100% 100%;
-    background-repeat: no-repeat;
-    background-attachment: fixed;
-    background-clip: border-box;
-    background-color: black;
-}
-a {
-    text-decoration: none;
-}
-a:link {
-    color: #b2d9e5;
-}
-a:visited {
-    color: #b2b2e5;
-}
-a:hover {
-    color: #e5bfb2;
-}
-a:active {
-    color: #e5e5b2;
-}
-li {
-    list-style: none;
-}
-.title {
-    text-transform: uppercase;
-    text-align: center;
-    font-size: 1.8em;
-    letter-spacing: 0.5em;
-    color: #efefb2;
-}
-.byline {
-    font-style: italic;
-    text-align: center;
-    font-size: 1.3em;
-    letter-spacing: 0.2em;
-    color: #e5bfb2;
-}
-.lozenge {
-    text-align: center;
-    font-size: 1em;
-    color: #e5bfb2;
-}
diff --git a/css/elegies.css b/css/elegies.css
deleted file mode 100644
index e69de29..0000000
--- a/css/elegies.css
+++ /dev/null

diff --git a/css/hezekiah.css b/css/hezekiah.css
deleted file mode 100644
index e69de29..0000000
--- a/css/hezekiah.css
+++ /dev/null

diff --git a/css/paul.css b/css/paul.css
deleted file mode 100644
index c4d9e15..0000000
--- a/css/paul.css
+++ /dev/null

@@ -1,34 +0,0 @@
-/* BUILDINGS OUT OF AIR: PAUL IN THE WOODS
- * project stylesheet
- */
-/* Playfair Display (headings) */
-@import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display:400,700,400italic,700italic&subset=latin,latin-ext);
-/* Fira Sans (body) */
-@import url(http://code.cdn.mozilla.net/fonts/fira.css);
-/* Blockquote = typewriter */
-blockquote {
-    font-family: "Courier Prime", "Courier New", Courier, monospace;
-    font-size: 10pt;
-    border: 1px solid black;
-    max-width: 30em;
-    margin: auto;
-    padding: 0 1em;
-    text-align: left;
-}
-blockquote p::first-line {
-    font-variant: normal !important;
-}
-blockquote ul {
-    list-style-type: none;
-}
-blockquote ul li::before {
-    content: '- ';
-}
-/* Emphasis = handwritten */
-em {
-    /* font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, sans-serif; */
-    font-style: italic;
-}
diff --git a/css/prose.css b/css/prose.css
deleted file mode 100644
index 28b2db2..0000000
--- a/css/prose.css
+++ /dev/null

@@ -1,18 +0,0 @@
-/* PROSE css for Autocento.
- * for PROSE considerations ONLY, e.g.:
- * line-height
- * hyphenation
- * etc.
- */
-.prose {
-    text-align: justify;
-    max-width: 39em;
-    margin: auto;
-    hyphens: auto;
-    -moz-hyphens: auto;
-}
-.prose p::first-child::first-line {
-    font-variant: small-caps;
-    letter-spacing: 0.1em;
-}
diff --git a/css/stark.css b/css/stark.css
deleted file mode 100644
index 5f4af18..0000000
--- a/css/stark.css
+++ /dev/null

@@ -1,12 +0,0 @@
-/* STARK RAVING css project rules */
-/* TABLES {{{ */
-table { border-collapse: collapse; }
-td {
-    vertical-align: top;
-}
-tr {
-    border-bottom: 1px solid #aaa;
-    border-top: 1px solid #aaa;
-}
-/* tables }}} */
diff --git a/css/verse.css b/css/verse.css
deleted file mode 100644
index b76ff2c..0000000
--- a/css/verse.css
+++ /dev/null

@@ -1,15 +0,0 @@
-/* VERSE css for Autocento.
- * for VERSE considerations ONLY, e.g.:
- * line breaks
- * how to continue lines
- * etc.
- */
-#container {
-    text-align: center;
-}
-.verse {
-    display: inline-block;
-    text-align: left;
-}
diff --git a/deadman.html b/deadman.html
index a35ed51..c3b64de 100644
--- a/deadman.html
+++ b/deadman.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Dead man | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="deadman" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Dead man</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>A dead man finds his way into our <a href="words-meaning.html">hearts</a><br />simply by opening the door and walking in.<br />He pours himself a drink, speaks aimlessly<br />about hunting or some bats he saw<br />on the way over, wheeling around each other.<br />Look how <a href="moongone.html">they spin</a>, he says, it’s like the<br />ripples atoms make as they hurl past each other<br />in the space between their bodies.<br />We mention the eels at the aquarium, how<br />their bodies <a href="spittle.html">knot while mating</a>. The dead man<br />was a boyscout once, and tied a lot of knots.<br />His favorite was the one with the rabbit<br />and the hole, and the rabbit going in and out<br />and around the tree. The dead man liked it<br />because he liked to pretend that the rabbit<br />was running from a fox, and the rabbit<br />always ended up safe, back in his hole.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>A dead man finds his way into our <a href="words-meaning.html">hearts</a><br />simply by opening the door and walking in.<br />He pours himself a drink, speaks aimlessly<br />about hunting or some bats he saw<br />on the way over, wheeling around each other.<br />Look how <a href="moongone.html">they spin</a>, he says, it’s like the<br />ripples atoms make as they hurl past each other<br />in the space between their bodies.<br />We mention the eels at the aquarium, how<br />their bodies <a href="spittle.html">knot while mating</a>. The dead man<br />was a boyscout once, and tied a lot of knots.<br />His favorite was the one with the rabbit<br />and the hole, and the rabbit going in and out<br />and around the tree. The dead man liked it<br />because he liked to pretend that the rabbit<br />was running from a fox, and the rabbit<br />always ended up safe, back in his hole.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="boar.html"
diff --git a/death-zone.html b/death-zone.html
index d705dc7..1145184 100644
--- a/death-zone.html
+++ b/death-zone.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The Death Zone | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="death-zone" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
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            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The Death Zone</h1>
@@ -54,13 +50,15 @@
                </a>
                        </div>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>When I think of death I think<br />of Peter Falk in <em>The Princess Bride</em> patting<br /><a href="creation-myth.html">his pockets</a> as he leaves the room</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Life is a series of doors or so<br />they say but I ask them this<br />where does that last door lead?</p>
+            <p>When I think of death I think<br />of Peter Falk in <em>The Princess Bride</em> patting<br /><a href="creation-myth.html">his pockets</a> as he leaves the room</p>
-<p>For Falk maybe it leads backstage<br />a black-walled catered affair with stage<br />lights slowly baking stale muffins</p>
+            <p>Life is a series of doors or so<br />they say but I ask them this<br />where does that last door lead?</p>
-<p><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">Sweaty cheese</a> leaking onto dried-out<br />grapes a chocolate fountain clogged<br />by some errant strawberry crown</p>
+            <p>For Falk maybe it leads backstage<br />a black-walled catered affair with stage<br />lights slowly baking stale muffins</p>
-<p>but this is not where it leads for you or<br />for me that door opens onto darkness marked<br />only by a trellis or the lid of a casket</p>
+            <p><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">Sweaty cheese</a> leaking onto dried-out<br />grapes a chocolate fountain clogged<br />by some errant strawberry crown</p>
-<p>the door of the <a href="about-the-author.html">earth’s womb</a> opening<br />finally to accept us and with us the dirt<br />not to grow more strawberries for Falk</p>
+            <p>but this is not where it leads for you or<br />for me that door opens onto darkness marked<br />only by a trellis or the lid of a casket</p>
-<p>but to pad his feet as he walks overhead<br />to visit someone he certainly cares about<br />but whose name is lost to posterity.</p></section>
+            <p>the door of the <a href="about-the-author.html">earth’s womb</a> opening<br />finally to accept us and with us the dirt<br />not to grow more strawberries for Falk</p>
+            <p>but to pad his feet as he walks overhead<br />to visit someone he certainly cares about<br />but whose name is lost to posterity.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="exasperated.html"
diff --git a/deathstrumpet.html b/deathstrumpet.html
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--- a/deathstrumpet.html
+++ b/deathstrumpet.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Death’s trumpet | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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+<body id="deathstrumpet" class="elegies">
    
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            <h1 class="title">Death’s trumpet</h1>
@@ -46,11 +42,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>He didn’t have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing,<br />top to bottom. It gleamed like maybe a tomato on the vine<br />begging to be picked and thrown on some caprese. Death loved caprese.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>He stood up and put the horn to his lips, imagining<br />it was a woman he loved. He blushed as he realized<br />it was a terrible metaphor.<br />He practiced for six hours a day—what else to do?</p>
+            <p>He didn’t have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing,<br />top to bottom. It gleamed like maybe a tomato on the vine<br />begging to be picked and thrown on some caprese. Death loved caprese.</p>
-<p>Death looks at <a href="moongone.html">himself in the mirror</a> as he plays.<br />The trumpet is suspended in midair. Damn vampire rules.<br />Death is always worried he might have missed a spot shaving<br />but he’ll never know unless a stranger is polite enough.<br />Not that he ever goes out or meets anyone.</p>
+            <p>He stood up and put the horn to his lips, imagining<br />it was a woman he loved. He blushed as he realized<br />it was a terrible metaphor.<br />He practiced for six hours a day—what else to do?</p>
-<p>He wakes up late these days. Stays in bed later.<br />He thinks he might be depressed. The caprese has gotten soggy<br />since he made it, maybe three days ago or maybe just two.<br />The sun streams through his kitchen blinds like smoke.<br />He decides to go to the arcade. When he gets there,</p>
+            <p>Death looks at <a href="moongone.html">himself in the mirror</a> as he plays.<br />The trumpet is suspended in midair. Damn vampire rules.<br />Death is always worried he might have missed a spot shaving<br />but he’ll never know unless a stranger is polite enough.<br />Not that he ever goes out or meets anyone.</p>
-<p>there’s only a <a href="angeltoabraham.html">little boy</a> with dead eyes. So far so good.<br />He’s playing a first-person shooter. Death walks past him<br />and watches out of the corner of his eye. The kid’s good.<br />Death wants to congratulate him. His trumpet is in his hand.</p></section>
+            <p>He wakes up late these days. Stays in bed later.<br />He thinks he might be depressed. The caprese has gotten soggy<br />since he made it, maybe three days ago or maybe just two.<br />The sun streams through his kitchen blinds like smoke.<br />He decides to go to the arcade. When he gets there,</p>
+            <p>there’s only a <a href="angeltoabraham.html">little boy</a> with dead eyes. So far so good.<br />He’s playing a first-person shooter. Death walks past him<br />and watches out of the corner of his eye. The kid’s good.<br />Death wants to congratulate him. His trumpet is in his hand.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
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+++ b/dollywood.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Something | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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+<body id="dollywood" class="autocento">
    
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+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Something</h1>
@@ -40,26 +36,28 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>I turned off the TV as soon as the end credits began. I stretched in the La-Z-Boy™ I grew up in, pushing its back until I lay horizontal, feet slightly elevated. I stared at the light, at the bugs silhouetted inside it. I relaxed, thought about sleeping in the chair with the light on. I decided against it, pulled the lever to pull the chairback up and the footrest down, stood up, went around the corner, turned off the light, <a href="underwear.html">stripped to my underwear</a>, and got <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a>. I made sure my alarm was set for 8:00 and lay face-up in the dark. Eventually I slept.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>I still consider this to be the best summer I ever had, in terms of my sleep schedule. Every night I went to bed at midnight, after Stewart and Colbert. Every morning I woke up at eight, took a shower, ate my Frosted Mini-Wheats™, and brushed my teeth. I took my time because I didn’t have to leave for work until 9:30. My shift at Dollywood started at 10:00. It was my second summer there—I worked as Larry the Cucumber™ mostly, though sometimes I would pick up the shift for one of the official Dollywood mascots when they had their day off.</p>
+            <p>I turned off the TV as soon as the end credits began. I stretched in the La-Z-Boy™ I grew up in, pushing its back until I lay horizontal, feet slightly elevated. I stared at the light, at the bugs silhouetted inside it. I relaxed, thought about sleeping in the chair with the light on. I decided against it, pulled the lever to pull the chairback up and the footrest down, stood up, went around the corner, turned off the light, <a href="underwear.html">stripped to my underwear</a>, and got <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a>. I made sure my alarm was set for 8:00 and lay face-up in the dark. Eventually I slept.</p>
-<p>I went outside when the wall clock read 9:32. The day was already beginning to warm up. I walked across the road to my car, a Saturn®, my first, started it, pulled into the road, and looked up at my window, the only one on the second floor of my house. I said “So long” <a href="hymnal.html">in my head</a> to my room, the house, and my two sisters still sleeping inside, and drove down the road.</p>
+            <p>I still consider this to be the best summer I ever had, in terms of my sleep schedule. Every night I went to bed at midnight, after Stewart and Colbert. Every morning I woke up at eight, took a shower, ate my Frosted Mini-Wheats™, and brushed my teeth. I took my time because I didn’t have to leave for work until 9:30. My shift at Dollywood started at 10:00. It was my second summer there—I worked as Larry the Cucumber™ mostly, though sometimes I would pick up the shift for one of the official Dollywood mascots when they had their day off.</p>
-<hr />
+            <p>I went outside when the wall clock read 9:32. The day was already beginning to warm up. I walked across the road to my car, a Saturn®, my first, started it, pulled into the road, and looked up at my window, the only one on the second floor of my house. I said “So long” <a href="hymnal.html">in my head</a> to my room, the house, and my two sisters still sleeping inside, and drove down the road.</p>
-<p>My morning commute was rural, through farms, creeks, hills, and hollows; past tourist cabin resorts and used Christian bookstores; nearly getting to Pigeon Forge but stopping before any of the Strip was visible. Like Las Vegas, Pigeon Forge has a Strip; it was second only to Vegas in terms of marriages performed; it was first in the country including Vegas to feature two Cracker Barrels®. I went into Pigeon Forge only if I couldn’t help it, which was rare; usually it was only if family from out-of-state were visiting, or the one time I and two friends went to the Buy-One-Pair-Get-Two-Pair-Free Boot Store and got a deal.</p>
+            <hr />
-<p>I turned left before I got to any of Pigeon Forge, into the employee entrance of Dollywood. I drove down a small road: to my left a hill covered in kudzu; to my right a fence past which I could hear people riding The River Rampage™ or Rockin’ Roadway™. I turned left again, drove past HR and the Dollywood doctor’s office, and checked for parking at the bottom of the hill. There wasn’t any, so I drove up the hill, found a parking spot, and got out of my car. I thought about waiting for an employee shuttle until I realized it was 9:55, so I trotted down the hill and past HR. I crossed the road in front of the gazebo, walked down a little path, and met Tim the security guard as I was crossing the main road. He asked to see my ID, which I had ready for him. I showed it to him, he looked me up and down (I wasn’t in costume, usually a no at Dollywood, but since my costume was green, expensive, and required at least two people to put on, I didn’t have to wear it onto the park), and finally let me through. I walked through the employee entrance and clocked in at 9:58.</p>
+            <p>My morning commute was rural, through farms, creeks, hills, and hollows; past tourist cabin resorts and used Christian bookstores; nearly getting to Pigeon Forge but stopping before any of the Strip was visible. Like Las Vegas, Pigeon Forge has a Strip; it was second only to Vegas in terms of marriages performed; it was first in the country including Vegas to feature two Cracker Barrels®. I went into Pigeon Forge only if I couldn’t help it, which was rare; usually it was only if family from out-of-state were visiting, or the one time I and two friends went to the Buy-One-Pair-Get-Two-Pair-Free Boot Store and got a deal.</p>
-<p>I had only figured out how to clock in my second summer. The first summer I worked at Dollywood was also the first summer I worked a job, and due to the placement of the Atmosphere Characters in the hierarchy of Park management we got paid by the day. This confused me into thinking that I didn’t need to clock in and out, especially since I still got paid. My confusion deepened when I walked onto Park one day with Chance, who also worked Veggie Tales™, and he clocked in, but this was midway through the summer and I was too nervous to ask anyone about what I should do. I was worried that if I started clocking in it would cause suspicion, and I was terrified that my not clocking in would be caught and punished somehow. For about a month I lived in mild terror each morning and afternoon, avoiding my coworkers as they entered or left so they wouldn’t see me walk past the red time clocks, each day wondering if the hammer would fall. I found out later that my manager Charlie had been paying me based on the days he’d scheduled me, clocking me in and out himself from his computer. He said it wasn’t a big deal but to clock in next summer, this summer. So I clocked in and out every day, and these short sessions with the red time clock became favorite moments.</p>
+            <p>I turned left before I got to any of Pigeon Forge, into the employee entrance of Dollywood. I drove down a small road: to my left a hill covered in kudzu; to my right a fence past which I could hear people riding The River Rampage™ or Rockin’ Roadway™. I turned left again, drove past HR and the Dollywood doctor’s office, and checked for parking at the bottom of the hill. There wasn’t any, so I drove up the hill, found a parking spot, and got out of my car. I thought about waiting for an employee shuttle until I realized it was 9:55, so I trotted down the hill and past HR. I crossed the road in front of the gazebo, walked down a little path, and met Tim the security guard as I was crossing the main road. He asked to see my ID, which I had ready for him. I showed it to him, he looked me up and down (I wasn’t in costume, usually a no at Dollywood, but since my costume was green, expensive, and required at least two people to put on, I didn’t have to wear it onto the park), and finally let me through. I walked through the employee entrance and clocked in at 9:58.</p>
-<p>I walked onto the park, past Jukebox Junction™, over the bridge, under the rope that disallowed guests to visit the area until the Park opened at 10:00, down Showstreet, and into the back of Showstreet Palace Theater, where we characters shared a dressing room with the Veggie Tales™ actors. Our “dressing-room” was a part of backstage partitioned off by curtains, where the empty shells of Bob the Tomato™ and Larry the Cucumber™ lay, inside-out so the sweat inside could evaporate, between shifts. I grabbed my off-brand UnderArmour™ “slicks” from the laundry basket and went to the bathroom to change.</p>
+            <p>I had only figured out how to clock in my second summer. The first summer I worked at Dollywood was also the first summer I worked a job, and due to the placement of the Atmosphere Characters in the hierarchy of Park management we got paid by the day. This confused me into thinking that I didn’t need to clock in and out, especially since I still got paid. My confusion deepened when I walked onto Park one day with Chance, who also worked Veggie Tales™, and he clocked in, but this was midway through the summer and I was too nervous to ask anyone about what I should do. I was worried that if I started clocking in it would cause suspicion, and I was terrified that my not clocking in would be caught and punished somehow. For about a month I lived in mild terror each morning and afternoon, avoiding my coworkers as they entered or left so they wouldn’t see me walk past the red time clocks, each day wondering if the hammer would fall. I found out later that my manager Charlie had been paying me based on the days he’d scheduled me, clocking me in and out himself from his computer. He said it wasn’t a big deal but to clock in next summer, this summer. So I clocked in and out every day, and these short sessions with the red time clock became favorite moments.</p>
-<p>After I changed I came out of the bathroom and knocked on the women’s dressing room door, to see if Nina or Stacy were in yet. Nina opened the door. “Hey Case,” she said. “How’s it going?” “I’m good. Am I Larry today?” I had been off the day before, so I wasn’t sure of the rotation. “Yeah I think so,” said Stacy, putting on makeup in the mirror. So she was handling with Chance, while Nina and I were the vegetables. I liked this arrangement; I preferred to be Larry™ because I didn’t have to talk to anyone, and I could make faces in the costume while families took pictures. Nina preferred the same thing, although she was slightly too tall to fit comfortably inside Bob™. Stacy actually preferred to handle; her personality was bubbly and talkative; I don’t think Chance liked any part of the job, really, and handling was less hot than being in the suit.</p>
+            <p>I walked onto the park, past Jukebox Junction™, over the bridge, under the rope that disallowed guests to visit the area until the Park opened at 10:00, down Showstreet, and into the back of Showstreet Palace Theater, where we characters shared a dressing room with the Veggie Tales™ actors. Our “dressing-room” was a part of backstage partitioned off by curtains, where the empty shells of Bob the Tomato™ and Larry the Cucumber™ lay, inside-out so the sweat inside could evaporate, between shifts. I grabbed my off-brand UnderArmour™ “slicks” from the laundry basket and went to the bathroom to change.</p>
-<p>“When’s our first run?” I asked. “Well, the first show is at 10:20, so we were thinking about 11?” I nodded. “Where’s Chance?” “I think he went out back to smoke,” Nina said. “I’ll go with you.” The actors for the Veggie Tales show were coming in to use their dressing room, so we left Stacy with them. We walked through backstage, behind all the curtains, and through the side door into a sort of garage with ratty couches, a refrigerator, and an old TV mounted high up on the wall. Chance was sitting, smoking, and watching Jeopardy while thumbing through a magazine. “Hi Chance,” I said. “Hey guys!” he flicked his smile, always somewhere between genuine and mocking, at us.</p>
+            <p>After I changed I came out of the bathroom and knocked on the women’s dressing room door, to see if Nina or Stacy were in yet. Nina opened the door. “Hey Case,” she said. “How’s it going?” “I’m good. Am I Larry today?” I had been off the day before, so I wasn’t sure of the rotation. “Yeah I think so,” said Stacy, putting on makeup in the mirror. So she was handling with Chance, while Nina and I were the vegetables. I liked this arrangement; I preferred to be Larry™ because I didn’t have to talk to anyone, and I could make faces in the costume while families took pictures. Nina preferred the same thing, although she was slightly too tall to fit comfortably inside Bob™. Stacy actually preferred to handle; her personality was bubbly and talkative; I don’t think Chance liked any part of the job, really, and handling was less hot than being in the suit.</p>
-<p>“Think it’ll rain today?” he asked, indicating the direction of the sky. It wasn’t really visible from within the garage, due to the high fence keeping the guests on the path toward Timber Tower™ and Mystery Mine™, and the tree just outside the garage. “I don’t think there’s a cloud in the sky,” I said, but walked out of the garage and looked up to be sure. There were wisps of cirrus like stray brush strokes on a blue canvas, but that was all. “I think we’ll have to do all of our runs today.” “Damn,” said Chance, and stubbed out his cigarette. We watched Jeopardy in silence for a few minutes. Chance checked his watch. “It’s 10:19,” he said, “we should get inside before the show starts.”</p>
+            <p>“When’s our first run?” I asked. “Well, the first show is at 10:20, so we were thinking about 11?” I nodded. “Where’s Chance?” “I think he went out back to smoke,” Nina said. “I’ll go with you.” The actors for the Veggie Tales show were coming in to use their dressing room, so we left Stacy with them. We walked through backstage, behind all the curtains, and through the side door into a sort of garage with ratty couches, a refrigerator, and an old TV mounted high up on the wall. Chance was sitting, smoking, and watching Jeopardy while thumbing through a magazine. “Hi Chance,” I said. “Hey guys!” he flicked his smile, always somewhere between genuine and mocking, at us.</p>
-<p>We went back to the dressing room, behind the curtains backstage, past the skins of Larry™ and Bob™, their feet, and their battery packs, past the water fountain where I drank, and into the women’s dressing room. Stacy had finished applying her makeup and was already in overalls, flannel, boots and cowboy hat. Seeing her, Chance said, “I’d better go put my outfit on.” He left and came back, costumed. We killed time. Nina turned her wrist and looked at her watch. “It’s 10:50,” she said, looking at me and jerking her head toward the door. “Let’s get ready.”</p>
+            <p>“Think it’ll rain today?” he asked, indicating the direction of the sky. It wasn’t really visible from within the garage, due to the high fence keeping the guests on the path toward Timber Tower™ and Mystery Mine™, and the tree just outside the garage. “I don’t think there’s a cloud in the sky,” I said, but walked out of the garage and looked up to be sure. There were wisps of cirrus like stray brush strokes on a blue canvas, but that was all. “I think we’ll have to do all of our runs today.” “Damn,” said Chance, and stubbed out his cigarette. We watched Jeopardy in silence for a few minutes. Chance checked his watch. “It’s 10:19,” he said, “we should get inside before the show starts.”</p>
-<p>We went out and down the hall. The Veggie Tales were singing about Mr. Nezzer™ loving the bunny. Nina went to Bob™, and I to Larry™. We set to work pulling them right-side-out. When this was done we put on the backpacks that served as interior shells for the characters and held the battery packs. As Nina pulled on Bob™‘s legs, I pulled on Larry™’s. I put my shoes in Larry™’s feet—a concession made to the forms of us humans inside the suits (Bob™ and Larry™ on the show had no arms or legs). We clipped each other’s batteries into the packs. We put our hands through the vegetables’ arms. At this point, the vegetables’ faces were sagging from our waists, like deflated balloons. We waddled over to the hallway outside the dressing rooms. Chance helped me put Larry’s hands on, which were three-fingered like a cartoon, although in the cartoon the Veggie Tales characters don’t have hands. He snapped them onto the arm. He helped me pull the head up and over my pack, and clipped the battery to the fan inside the suit. He zipped the back zipper, and the suit started to inflate—Bob™ and Larry™ were inflatable to cut down on their weight. Stacy had done the same with Nina and Bob™. She asked, “Ready?” We said, “Ready.” Chance got ahead of us, opening the door. I had to push my hands into my chest to deflate the suit so it could fit through the door. We stepped into the dappled sunlight of Dollywood.</p>
+            <p>We went back to the dressing room, behind the curtains backstage, past the skins of Larry™ and Bob™, their feet, and their battery packs, past the water fountain where I drank, and into the women’s dressing room. Stacy had finished applying her makeup and was already in overalls, flannel, boots and cowboy hat. Seeing her, Chance said, “I’d better go put my outfit on.” He left and came back, costumed. We killed time. Nina turned her wrist and looked at her watch. “It’s 10:50,” she said, looking at me and jerking her head toward the door. “Let’s get ready.”</p>
-<hr />
+            <p>We went out and down the hall. The Veggie Tales were singing about Mr. Nezzer™ loving the bunny. Nina went to Bob™, and I to Larry™. We set to work pulling them right-side-out. When this was done we put on the backpacks that served as interior shells for the characters and held the battery packs. As Nina pulled on Bob™‘s legs, I pulled on Larry™’s. I put my shoes in Larry™’s feet—a concession made to the forms of us humans inside the suits (Bob™ and Larry™ on the show had no arms or legs). We clipped each other’s batteries into the packs. We put our hands through the vegetables’ arms. At this point, the vegetables’ faces were sagging from our waists, like deflated balloons. We waddled over to the hallway outside the dressing rooms. Chance helped me put Larry’s hands on, which were three-fingered like a cartoon, although in the cartoon the Veggie Tales characters don’t have hands. He snapped them onto the arm. He helped me pull the head up and over my pack, and clipped the battery to the fan inside the suit. He zipped the back zipper, and the suit started to inflate—Bob™ and Larry™ were inflatable to cut down on their weight. Stacy had done the same with Nina and Bob™. She asked, “Ready?” We said, “Ready.” Chance got ahead of us, opening the door. I had to push my hands into my chest to deflate the suit so it could fit through the door. We stepped into the dappled sunlight of Dollywood.</p>
-<p>The first few minutes of the run were fairly peaceful. A few families walking by saw us and walk over, forming a small line for their children to say hello, get a hug and a picture. One of the kids, about three, got about five feet from me, pass some sort of magic barrier, and suddenly become terrified. She screamed and run back to her parents. I tried to get eye-contact (it was hard to tell exactly where Larry™ was looking, since his eyes were about a foot above my head and were fixed forward), get small, and hold out my hand, but she had seen quite enough. She shook her head and hid behind her mother’s leg. I waved with my fingers and stepped back to receive the next child.</p>
+            <hr />
-<p>Sometimes, doing this job, I felt like a priest giving some sort of communion. Sometimes I felt like a celebrity, especially when children asked for an autograph (this happened fairly often, and Chance had to guide my hand with the Sharpie™ in it). Sometimes I felt like Santa Claus, or some other mythical creature come to Earth. Mostly, I felt a little hot and slightly bored. The boredom crystallized into stress when the Veggie Tales show let out.</p>
+            <p>The first few minutes of the run were fairly peaceful. A few families walking by saw us and walk over, forming a small line for their children to say hello, get a hug and a picture. One of the kids, about three, got about five feet from me, pass some sort of magic barrier, and suddenly become terrified. She screamed and run back to her parents. I tried to get eye-contact (it was hard to tell exactly where Larry™ was looking, since his eyes were about a foot above my head and were fixed forward), get small, and hold out my hand, but she had seen quite enough. She shook her head and hid behind her mother’s leg. I waved with my fingers and stepped back to receive the next child.</p>
-<p>Showstreet Palace held something like four hundred people, and for a show like Veggie Tales, around half were children. For this run our post was around the side of the theater, so we didn’t get the full press of the crowd, but there were quite a few people streaming out of the side door, fresh from seeing Larry™, Bob™ and friends performing in a show. Of course they were excited to see them giving out hugs in the street. Chance and Stacy became busy trying to form the crowd into some semblance of a line while I and Nina were hugging children, trying to take our time with each but painfully aware of the next in line. This was the worst part of the job—I felt like I was on a factory line gluing widgets onto a product all day. I was always looking ahead, always at the next kid, barely noticing what the ones old enough to talk were saying to me, trying to show me. I felt callous and aloof from humanity, and a deep unease passed over me.</p>
+            <p>Sometimes, doing this job, I felt like a priest giving some sort of communion. Sometimes I felt like a celebrity, especially when children asked for an autograph (this happened fairly often, and Chance had to guide my hand with the Sharpie™ in it). Sometimes I felt like Santa Claus, or some other mythical creature come to Earth. Mostly, I felt a little hot and slightly bored. The boredom crystallized into stress when the Veggie Tales show let out.</p>
-<p>With all of this on my mind, of course I didn’t see the teenager running toward me from my left. Chance and Stacy can’t be blamed; they were busy with crowd control. I don’t know what happened to the kid afterward. All I know is what happened to me: suddenly a great weight on my left side, the hiss of air being forced out of Larry™, me almost falling over. The weight fell off. I turned around, too stunned to yell, though Chance had caught it out of the corner of his eye. “Hey! Don’t do that!” he said, his eyes on the fallen teenager. The kid was maybe fifteen, tall, with a white T-shirt and dark hair. He had an indescribable look on his face—surprise, satisfaction, and something else I couldn’t identify. Before Chance could reach him he ran off.</p>
+            <p>Showstreet Palace held something like four hundred people, and for a show like Veggie Tales, around half were children. For this run our post was around the side of the theater, so we didn’t get the full press of the crowd, but there were quite a few people streaming out of the side door, fresh from seeing Larry™, Bob™ and friends performing in a show. Of course they were excited to see them giving out hugs in the street. Chance and Stacy became busy trying to form the crowd into some semblance of a line while I and Nina were hugging children, trying to take our time with each but painfully aware of the next in line. This was the worst part of the job—I felt like I was on a factory line gluing widgets onto a product all day. I was always looking ahead, always at the next kid, barely noticing what the ones old enough to talk were saying to me, trying to show me. I felt callous and aloof from humanity, and a deep unease passed over me.</p>
-<p>“You okay?” he turned to me and asked. I said in a low voice, “Yeah I’m fine.” “We’re going in,” he said to Stacy. She checked her watch, said, “Yeah, it’s been twenty minutes.” To the crowd: “We have time for just two more pictures!” A wave of disappointment went through the people there. Most stayed, hoping for an extension of the rule, but we took two more pictures, turned around, and began walking inside. Some family tried to follow us in; Chance hollered over his shoulder, “I’m sorry folks, we have to go in. Bob™ and Larry™ need a break.” The father asked, “When will you be back out?” “After the next show,” Chance said as Stacy opened the door.</p>
+            <p>With all of this on my mind, of course I didn’t see the teenager running toward me from my left. Chance and Stacy can’t be blamed; they were busy with crowd control. I don’t know what happened to the kid afterward. All I know is what happened to me: suddenly a great weight on my left side, the hiss of air being forced out of Larry™, me almost falling over. The weight fell off. I turned around, too stunned to yell, though Chance had caught it out of the corner of his eye. “Hey! Don’t do that!” he said, his eyes on the fallen teenager. The kid was maybe fifteen, tall, with a white T-shirt and dark hair. He had an indescribable look on his face—surprise, satisfaction, and something else I couldn’t identify. Before Chance could reach him he ran off.</p>
-<p>I deflated Larry™’s face again, to get in the door, and was safe in the darkness of the hallway. Chance unzipped me, allowing real, cool air to wash over my body. Nina and I waddled down the hallway to peel the vegetables off ourselves, and to repeat the process of waiting, dressing, and standing again.</p></section>
+            <p>“You okay?” he turned to me and asked. I said in a low voice, “Yeah I’m fine.” “We’re going in,” he said to Stacy. She checked her watch, said, “Yeah, it’s been twenty minutes.” To the crowd: “We have time for just two more pictures!” A wave of disappointment went through the people there. Most stayed, hoping for an extension of the rule, but we took two more pictures, turned around, and began walking inside. Some family tried to follow us in; Chance hollered over his shoulder, “I’m sorry folks, we have to go in. Bob™ and Larry™ need a break.” The father asked, “When will you be back out?” “After the next show,” Chance said as Stacy opened the door.</p>
+            <p>I deflated Larry™’s face again, to get in the door, and was safe in the darkness of the hallway. Chance unzipped me, allowing real, cool air to wash over my body. Nina and I waddled down the hallway to peel the vegetables off ourselves, and to repeat the process of waiting, dressing, and standing again.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/dream.html b/dream.html
index 9357dcc..8182db9 100644
--- a/dream.html
+++ b/dream.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Dream | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="dream" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Dream</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>It had gotten cold. He went to lay down <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a> with a pad and paper. He began to write. Although he hadn’t tried it much in bed before, he liked it mostly. His arm got tired journeying across the page like a series of switchbacks down the wall of the Grand Canyon. He wrote this down in the margin, for later:</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><em>Arm journeying across<br />the pg. like a<br />series of switch-<br />backs down the wall<br />of the Grand Canyon</em></p>
+            <p>It had gotten cold. He went to lay down <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a> with a pad and paper. He began to write. Although he hadn’t tried it much in bed before, he liked it mostly. His arm got tired journeying across the page like a series of switchbacks down the wall of the Grand Canyon. He wrote this down in the margin, for later:</p>
-<p>His arm began to pain him. He adjusted his position in the bed. It didn’t help much with the pain. It still hurt as he wrote. He began to be distracted by his mother’s music playing in the next room.</p>
+            <p><em>Arm journeying across<br />the pg. like a<br />series of switch-<br />backs down the wall<br />of the Grand Canyon</em></p>
-<p>“Could you turn that down please” he hollered across the wall to his mother. She made no reply (<a href="music-433.html">music too loud</a>). He gave his arm a break to look at what he’d written. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It looked like Arabic.</p>
+            <p>His arm began to pain him. He adjusted his position in the bed. It didn’t help much with the pain. It still hurt as he wrote. He began to be distracted by his mother’s music playing in the next room.</p>
-<p>He woke up gasping in a sweat.</p></section>
+            <p>“Could you turn that down please” he hollered across the wall to his mother. She made no reply (<a href="music-433.html">music too loud</a>). He gave his arm a break to look at what he’d written. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It looked like Arabic.</p>
+            <p>He woke up gasping in a sweat.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="underwear.html"
diff --git a/early.html b/early.html
index 15f4dce..cda9f68 100644
--- a/early.html
+++ b/early.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Early | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="early" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Early</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em>YOU CANNOT DISCOVER ART ART MUST BE CREATED</em> he sat on the couch at home while his mother <a href="real-writer.html">watched TV</a> and smoked. <a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">Dinner had been chicken</a> and peas with <a href="shipwright.html">milk</a> and afterward Paul and his mother sat on opposite ends of the couch. At intervals she would look sideways at Paul writing. He pretended not to notice.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><em>ART = ARTIFICE</em> he wrote. <em>ARTIFICE MEANS UNNATURAL. ARTIFICE MEANS BUILT. TO BUILD MEANS TO <a href="fire.html">FIND A PATTERN</a> &amp; FIND A PATTERN IS WHAT WE ARE GOOD AT.</em> He thought about this while someone else won a car.</p>
+            <p><em>YOU CANNOT DISCOVER ART ART MUST BE CREATED</em> he sat on the couch at home while his mother <a href="real-writer.html">watched TV</a> and smoked. <a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">Dinner had been chicken</a> and peas with <a href="shipwright.html">milk</a> and afterward Paul and his mother sat on opposite ends of the couch. At intervals she would look sideways at Paul writing. He pretended not to notice.</p>
-<p>“Do you think humans are good at finding patterns because we are hunters” he asked his mother. She <a href="movingsideways.html">looked sideways</a> at him and said “Sure Paul.” “Early on in our evolution we were hunters right? And to hunt we had to see the patterns in seemingly random events, like where the gazelle went each year” “Paul I’m trying to watch TV. If you’re going to write this stuff go do it in your room you’re distracting.” Paul got up and went to his room and lay down on his bed.</p>
+            <p><em>ART = ARTIFICE</em> he wrote. <em>ARTIFICE MEANS UNNATURAL. ARTIFICE MEANS BUILT. TO BUILD MEANS TO <a href="fire.html">FIND A PATTERN</a> &amp; FIND A PATTERN IS WHAT WE ARE GOOD AT.</em> He thought about this while someone else won a car.</p>
-<p>“If the gazelle went <a href="serengeti.html">to the same place</a> every year” he thought “did they know the pattern too? Or was it random for them, did they think each year ‘This seems like a good spot let’s graze here’ without knowing?”</p>
+            <p>“Do you think humans are good at finding patterns because we are hunters” he asked his mother. She <a href="movingsideways.html">looked sideways</a> at him and said “Sure Paul.” “Early on in our evolution we were hunters right? And to hunt we had to see the patterns in seemingly random events, like where the gazelle went each year” “Paul I’m trying to watch TV. If you’re going to write this stuff go do it in your room you’re distracting.” Paul got up and went to his room and lay down on his bed.</p>
-<p>He wrote <em>PATTERN = MEMORY</em> in his notebook.</p></section>
+            <p>“If the gazelle went <a href="serengeti.html">to the same place</a> every year” he thought “did they know the pattern too? Or was it random for them, did they think each year ‘This seems like a good spot let’s graze here’ without knowing?”</p>
+            <p>He wrote <em>PATTERN = MEMORY</em> in his notebook.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="stump.html"
diff --git a/elegyforanalternateself.html b/elegyforanalternateself.html
index 0a2fe37..b8f88b4 100644
--- a/elegyforanalternateself.html
+++ b/elegyforanalternateself.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Elegy for an alternate self | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="elegyforanalternateself" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Elegy for an alternate self</h1>
@@ -40,8 +36,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Say there are no words. Say that we are conjoined<br />from birth, or better still, say we are myself.<br />—But I still talk to myself, I build my world<br />through language, so if we say there are <a href="hymnal.html">no words</a><br />this is not enough. Say we are instead some animal,<br />or better yet, <a href="plant.html">a plant</a>, or a flagellum motoring<br />aimlessly around. (Say that humans are the only things<br />that reason. Say that we’re the <a href="movingsideways.html">only things that worry</a>.)</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Say that I am separate. To say there’s everything else<br />and then there’s me is wrong. Each thing is separate:<br /><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">there is no whole in the world</a>. Say this is both good<br />and bad, or rather, say there is no good or bad but only<br />being, more and more of it always added, none taken out<br />though it can be forgotten. Say that forgetting<br />is a function of our remembering. (Say that humans only<br /><a href="swansong-alt.html">worry about separation</a>. Say that only humans feel it.)</p></section>
+            <p>Say there are no words. Say that we are conjoined<br />from birth, or better still, say we are myself.<br />—But I still talk to myself, I build my world<br />through language, so if we say there are <a href="hymnal.html">no words</a><br />this is not enough. Say we are instead some animal,<br />or better yet, <a href="plant.html">a plant</a>, or a flagellum motoring<br />aimlessly around. (Say that humans are the only things<br />that reason. Say that we’re the <a href="movingsideways.html">only things that worry</a>.)</p>
+            <p>Say that I am separate. To say there’s everything else<br />and then there’s me is wrong. Each thing is separate:<br /><a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">there is no whole in the world</a>. Say this is both good<br />and bad, or rather, say there is no good or bad but only<br />being, more and more of it always added, none taken out<br />though it can be forgotten. Say that forgetting<br />is a function of our remembering. (Say that humans only<br /><a href="swansong-alt.html">worry about separation</a>. Say that only humans feel it.)</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/epigraph.html b/epigraph.html
index a77a120..7c1d1da 100644
--- a/epigraph.html
+++ b/epigraph.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>epigraph | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="epigraph" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">epigraph</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of <a href="spittle.html">other lovers</a> and queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to <a href="deathstrumpet.html">death</a>, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.</p></section>
+        <section class="content prose">
+            <p>I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of <a href="spittle.html">other lovers</a> and queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to <a href="deathstrumpet.html">death</a>, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/ex-machina.html b/ex-machina.html
index 807f53e..0ef92e3 100644
--- a/ex-machina.html
+++ b/ex-machina.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Ex machina | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="ex-machina" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Ex machina</h1>
@@ -45,15 +41,17 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Bottom of the drink: they had<br />to go. The Coke machine, the snack<br />machine, the deep fryer. Hoisted</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>and dragged through the halls<br />and out to the curb, they sat with<br />other trash beneath gray, forlorn</p>
+            <p>Bottom of the drink: they had<br />to go. The Coke machine, the snack<br />machine, the deep fryer. Hoisted</p>
-<p>skies behind the elementary<br />school, wondering what their next<br />move would be. The Coke machine</p>
+            <p>and dragged through the halls<br />and out to the curb, they sat with<br />other trash beneath gray, forlorn</p>
-<p>had always wanted to live<br />the life of a <a href="prelude.html">hobo</a>, jumping trains,<br />eating from garbage, making fire</p>
+            <p>skies behind the elementary<br />school, wondering what their next<br />move would be. The Coke machine</p>
-<p>in old oil drums. It had some<br />strange romantic notions of being homeless,<br />is what the deep fryer thought.</p>
+            <p>had always wanted to live<br />the life of a <a href="prelude.html">hobo</a>, jumping trains,<br />eating from garbage, making fire</p>
-<p>Its opinion was to head to court,<br />sue the bastards at the school for early<br />termination of contract. It was</p>
+            <p>in old oil drums. It had some<br />strange romantic notions of being homeless,<br />is what the deep fryer thought.</p>
-<p>the embodiment of <a href="table_contents.html">justifiable anger</a>.<br />It believed privately that it was an incarnation<br />of Nemesis, the goddess of divine</p>
+            <p>Its opinion was to head to court,<br />sue the bastards at the school for early<br />termination of contract. It was</p>
-<p>retribution. What the snack machine<br />thought, it kept to itself, but it did say<br />that <a href="no-nothing.html">nothing ever ends</a>. The others</p>
+            <p>the embodiment of <a href="table_contents.html">justifiable anger</a>.<br />It believed privately that it was an incarnation<br />of Nemesis, the goddess of divine</p>
-<p>were confused, then angry, but finally<br />understood, or thought they did. The snack<br />machine’s candy melted in the sun.</p></section>
+            <p>retribution. What the snack machine<br />thought, it kept to itself, but it did say<br />that <a href="no-nothing.html">nothing ever ends</a>. The others</p>
+            <p>were confused, then angry, but finally<br />understood, or thought they did. The snack<br />machine’s candy melted in the sun.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/exasperated.html b/exasperated.html
index e68dd5d..ea04744 100644
--- a/exasperated.html
+++ b/exasperated.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Exasperated | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="exasperated" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Exasperated</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I didn’t write this sestina yesterday.<br />It’s the first time I fell behind in my task<br />and hopefully, the only time it will.<br />This means that today I must write two<br />sestinas. If I don’t write them today, I<br />will have to write two later down the line.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Although I feel I’m slogging through each line<br />I think I’m doing better every day,<br />though maybe this is wishful thinking: I<br />showed my friend my just-completed task<br />two days ago (my God, was it two<br />entire days? I’ve no idea what I’ll</p>
+            <p>I didn’t write this sestina yesterday.<br />It’s the first time I fell behind in my task<br />and hopefully, the only time it will.<br />This means that today I must write two<br />sestinas. If I don’t write them today, I<br />will have to write two later down the line.</p>
-<p>do <a href="http://biblehub.com/2_corinthians/11-24.htm">after thirty-nine days</a>. I think I’ll<br />feel like <a href="death-zone.html">Inigo Montoya</a>, who’d been in the line<br />of revenging for so long, he didn’t know what to<br />do with the rest of his life), and he deigned<br />to be polite, but I could tell the task<br />was hard for him. He told me finally that I</p>
+            <p>Although I feel I’m slogging through each line<br />I think I’m doing better every day,<br />though maybe this is wishful thinking: I<br />showed my friend my just-completed task<br />two days ago (my God, was it two<br />entire days? I’ve no idea what I’ll</p>
-<p>had made a noble effort, but that ultimately I<br />failed. <a href="question.html">So my question</a>: when will<br />I be a decent sestina writer? For this is my task.<br />Maybe if I just keep cranking out line after line<br />I’ll finally figure it out. Maybe one more day<br />or another week will do it, or maybe I’ll need two,</p>
+            <p>do <a href="http://biblehub.com/2_corinthians/11-24.htm">after thirty-nine days</a>. I think I’ll<br />feel like <a href="death-zone.html">Inigo Montoya</a>, who’d been in the line<br />of revenging for so long, he didn’t know what to<br />do with the rest of his life), and he deigned<br />to be polite, but I could tell the task<br />was hard for him. He told me finally that I</p>
-<p>or maybe it’ll never happen. Maybe a sestina’s too<br />involved, too much <a href="tapestry.html">weaving</a> of words too fine, and I<br />will never write a good one, even on my best day,<br />even if I employ all my skill and all my will.<br />I’m not used to writing poems with thirty-nine lines,<br />that must be the problem, must be why this task</p>
+            <p>had made a noble effort, but that ultimately I<br />failed. <a href="question.html">So my question</a>: when will<br />I be a decent sestina writer? For this is my task.<br />Maybe if I just keep cranking out line after line<br />I’ll finally figure it out. Maybe one more day<br />or another week will do it, or maybe I’ll need two,</p>
-<p>is Herculean. He only had to finish twelve tasks,<br />and I have one less one thousand, five hundred twenty-two,<br />and it’s nothing but complaining lines<br />about <a href="deathstrumpet.html">how hard it is to be a person</a>. I<br />am getting sick of myself with these poems, and will<br />soon be loathe to get out of bed every day.</p>
+            <p>or maybe it’ll never happen. Maybe a sestina’s too<br />involved, too much <a href="tapestry.html">weaving</a> of words too fine, and I<br />will never write a good one, even on my best day,<br />even if I employ all my skill and all my will.<br />I’m not used to writing poems with thirty-nine lines,<br />that must be the problem, must be why this task</p>
-<p>But I tasked myself with this, which may be the worst I<br />ever do to myself. I thought a poem NaNoWriMo would<br />be fun, would line my resume, give me something I could publish someday.</p></section>
+            <p>is Herculean. He only had to finish twelve tasks,<br />and I have one less one thousand, five hundred twenty-two,<br />and it’s nothing but complaining lines<br />about <a href="deathstrumpet.html">how hard it is to be a person</a>. I<br />am getting sick of myself with these poems, and will<br />soon be loathe to get out of bed every day.</p>
+            <p>But I tasked myself with this, which may be the worst I<br />ever do to myself. I thought a poem NaNoWriMo would<br />be fun, would line my resume, give me something I could publish someday.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="amber-alert.html"
diff --git a/father.html b/father.html
index 8d618d6..c7bd8ea 100644
--- a/father.html
+++ b/father.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Father | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="father" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Father</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“Is man the natural thing that makes unnatural things” he thought to himself as he looked out the kitchen window at the shed. He wondered who built the shed for the first time since he’d been going out there. “Mom who built the shed out back” he asked. “That was your father” she said.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>His father. Paul had never met him. His mother had said when he was a kid that his father was caught by a <a href="riptide_memory.html">riptide</a> while swimming in the ocean. He hadn’t noticed what was happening until the land was a thin line on the horizon. He became exhausted swimming back and drowned. His body was found a week later by the coroner’s estimate. Paul never really believed this story because his mother’s face was sad in the wrong way when she told it.</p>
+            <p>“Is man the natural thing that makes unnatural things” he thought to himself as he looked out the kitchen window at the shed. He wondered who built the shed for the first time since he’d been going out there. “Mom who built the shed out back” he asked. “That was your father” she said.</p>
-<p>She said he looked like his father but she also said all men look alike. Paul realized he’d been standing at the kitchen window for a long time looking out at the shed without realizing it. He went out to take an inventory of everything inside.</p>
+            <p>His father. Paul had never met him. His mother had said when he was a kid that his father was caught by a <a href="riptide_memory.html">riptide</a> while swimming in the ocean. He hadn’t noticed what was happening until the land was a thin line on the horizon. He became exhausted swimming back and drowned. His body was found a week later by the coroner’s estimate. Paul never really believed this story because his mother’s face was sad in the wrong way when she told it.</p>
-<p>“Where you going” asked his mother. “To the shed. I’ll be back in a bit” he said.</p></section>
+            <p>She said he looked like his father but she also said all men look alike. Paul realized he’d been standing at the kitchen window for a long time looking out at the shed without realizing it. He went out to take an inventory of everything inside.</p>
+            <p>“Where you going” asked his mother. “To the shed. I’ll be back in a bit” he said.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="toothpaste.html"
diff --git a/feedingtheraven.html b/feedingtheraven.html
index 45c6e26..5415537 100644
--- a/feedingtheraven.html
+++ b/feedingtheraven.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Feeding the raven | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="feedingtheraven" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Feeding the raven</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>You never can tell just when Charlie Sheen will enter your life. For me, it was last Thursday. I was reading some translation of a Japanese translation of “The Raven” in which the Poe and the raven become friends. At one point the raven gets very sick and Poe feeds him at his bedside and nurses him back to health. The story was very heartwarming and sad at the same time and my tears were welling up when suddenly I heard a knock on my door.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>I shuffled over, sniffling but managing to keep my cheeks dry to open it. Of course Charlie was beaming on the other side, with a bag of flowers and a grin like a <a href="purpose-dogs.html">dog</a>’s. He bounded in the room without saying hello and threw the flowers in the sink, opened the refrigerator and started poking around. I said “It’s nice to see you too” and went to my room to get a camera, as well as a notebook for him to sign.</p>
+            <p>You never can tell just when Charlie Sheen will enter your life. For me, it was last Thursday. I was reading some translation of a Japanese translation of “The Raven” in which the Poe and the raven become friends. At one point the raven gets very sick and Poe feeds him at his bedside and nurses him back to health. The story was very heartwarming and sad at the same time and my tears were welling up when suddenly I heard a knock on my door.</p>
-<p>When I came back he was on the floor, hunched and groaning. I looked on the table to see a month-old half-gallon of milk—now cottage cheese—half-empty and dripping. The remnants were on his mouth, and at once I saw my chance to become Poe in this <a href="todaniel.html">translation of a translation</a> of a translation. I knelt next to Charlie, cradled his head in my lap. He looked up at me with a stare full of terror. I returned it levelly, making cooing noises at him until he calmed down.</p>
+            <p>I shuffled over, sniffling but managing to keep my cheeks dry to open it. Of course Charlie was beaming on the other side, with a bag of flowers and a grin like a <a href="purpose-dogs.html">dog</a>’s. He bounded in the room without saying hello and threw the flowers in the sink, opened the refrigerator and started poking around. I said “It’s nice to see you too” and went to my room to get a camera, as well as a notebook for him to sign.</p>
-<p>When he was calm he excused himself to be sick on my toilet. He wouldn’t let me follow but said he would sign whatever I liked when he got back. After half an hour passed and all I’d had for company was the ticking of the <a href="boar.html">clock</a>, I went to the bathroom door. I knocked carefully—once, then twice—to no beaming face, no flowers. I opened the door. There was shit on the floor and the window was open. There was a breeze blowing.</p></section>
+            <p>When I came back he was on the floor, hunched and groaning. I looked on the table to see a month-old half-gallon of milk—now cottage cheese—half-empty and dripping. The remnants were on his mouth, and at once I saw my chance to become Poe in this <a href="todaniel.html">translation of a translation</a> of a translation. I knelt next to Charlie, cradled his head in my lap. He looked up at me with a stare full of terror. I returned it levelly, making cooing noises at him until he calmed down.</p>
+            <p>When he was calm he excused himself to be sick on my toilet. He wouldn’t let me follow but said he would sign whatever I liked when he got back. After half an hour passed and all I’d had for company was the ticking of the <a href="boar.html">clock</a>, I went to the bathroom door. I knocked carefully—once, then twice—to no beaming face, no flowers. I opened the door. There was shit on the floor and the window was open. There was a breeze blowing.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="angeltoabraham.html"
diff --git a/finding-the-lion.html b/finding-the-lion.html
index 1c33c26..3a38213 100644
--- a/finding-the-lion.html
+++ b/finding-the-lion.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Finding the Lion | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="finding-the-lion" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Finding the Lion</h1>
@@ -40,12 +36,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Tonight, as I look up, the stars<br />hide themselves in shame. <a href="moongone.html">There is no moon</a>.<br />The sky is black, like my desk,</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p><a href="feedingtheraven.html">nothing like a raven</a>. The streetlights<br />look on the scene disinterested.<br />They have their own <a href="the-night-we-met.html">small gossips of the dark</a>.</p>
+            <p>Tonight, as I look up, the stars<br />hide themselves in shame. <a href="moongone.html">There is no moon</a>.<br />The sky is black, like my desk,</p>
-<p>I came here to find the Lion, old<br />friend, but he will not show his flanks, his<br />paws, his shoulders, <a href="axe.html">his mane</a>. I</p>
+            <p><a href="feedingtheraven.html">nothing like a raven</a>. The streetlights<br />look on the scene disinterested.<br />They have their own <a href="the-night-we-met.html">small gossips of the dark</a>.</p>
-<p>can hear him laughing from his hiding-place<br />behind the moon, nonexistent, under<br />the cold dead earth. The mountain is in front</p>
+            <p>I came here to find the Lion, old<br />friend, but he will not show his flanks, his<br />paws, his shoulders, <a href="axe.html">his mane</a>. I</p>
-<p>of me now, a hole of stars daring me<br />to pierce it with my sight. The lion’s still<br />laughing; the streetlamps talk about</p>
+            <p>can hear him laughing from his hiding-place<br />behind the moon, nonexistent, under<br />the cold dead earth. The mountain is in front</p>
-<p>me amongst themselves, and go out. There<br />never was any lion, they tell me.<br /><a href="cold-wind.html">You only hear the wind</a> <a href="mountain.html">on the mountain</a>.</p></section>
+            <p>of me now, a hole of stars daring me<br />to pierce it with my sight. The lion’s still<br />laughing; the streetlamps talk about</p>
+            <p>me amongst themselves, and go out. There<br />never was any lion, they tell me.<br /><a href="cold-wind.html">You only hear the wind</a> <a href="mountain.html">on the mountain</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/fire.html b/fire.html
index 3cceca4..86cf4df 100644
--- a/fire.html
+++ b/fire.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Fire | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="fire" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Fire</h1>
@@ -40,8 +36,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>His mother ran out of the house in her nightgown. “What the hell do you think you’re doing” she hollered as Paul watched the shed. “I’m burning the shed down” he said smiling “isn’t it warm?” “It’s warm enough out here without that burning down” she said “go get the hose and put this thing out.” “But Mom—” “Do it” she said in the tone of voice that meant Do it now. He went around the side of the house screwed the nozzle on grabbed the end of the hose pulled it around the house and waited for water to come out the end. <a href="hard-game.html">When it did it was not in a very strong stream.</a> “I don’t think this is going to work” Paul said to his mother. “God damn it I have to call the Fire Department” she said and went inside the house. The shed continued in its burning.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>After the Fire Department put out the fire one of the men said “Your mother says you set this building on fire. You know Arson is a major offense.” “I set it on fire” Paul said. “Why?” “Because ART wants to be random, it wants to be natural, but it isn’t. Humans create ART because we can’t help but see patterns in randomness. But we feel guilty about it.” The man nodded to another man in a blue uniform. “We want the ART to feel natural, to feel random, but we can’t stop seeing the patterns” as the man in blue walked over and put a hand on Paul’s shoulder “ART is unnatural by its very nature. I took my ART and gave it back to nature” as the man led him over to a <a href="sense-of-it.html">black and white</a> car and put him inside. He was saying something about Paul’s right. “No it’s my <a href="x-ray.html">left that was hurt</a>” said Paul “but it’s all better now.”</p></section>
+            <p>His mother ran out of the house in her nightgown. “What the hell do you think you’re doing” she hollered as Paul watched the shed. “I’m burning the shed down” he said smiling “isn’t it warm?” “It’s warm enough out here without that burning down” she said “go get the hose and put this thing out.” “But Mom—” “Do it” she said in the tone of voice that meant Do it now. He went around the side of the house screwed the nozzle on grabbed the end of the hose pulled it around the house and waited for water to come out the end. <a href="hard-game.html">When it did it was not in a very strong stream.</a> “I don’t think this is going to work” Paul said to his mother. “God damn it I have to call the Fire Department” she said and went inside the house. The shed continued in its burning.</p>
+            <p>After the Fire Department put out the fire one of the men said “Your mother says you set this building on fire. You know Arson is a major offense.” “I set it on fire” Paul said. “Why?” “Because ART wants to be random, it wants to be natural, but it isn’t. Humans create ART because we can’t help but see patterns in randomness. But we feel guilty about it.” The man nodded to another man in a blue uniform. “We want the ART to feel natural, to feel random, but we can’t stop seeing the patterns” as the man in blue walked over and put a hand on Paul’s shoulder “ART is unnatural by its very nature. I took my ART and gave it back to nature” as the man led him over to a <a href="sense-of-it.html">black and white</a> car and put him inside. He was saying something about Paul’s right. “No it’s my <a href="x-ray.html">left that was hurt</a>” said Paul “but it’s all better now.”</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="paul.html"
diff --git a/first-lines.html b/first-lines.html
index 1ccd20f..737478a 100644
--- a/first-lines.html
+++ b/first-lines.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Autocento of the breakfast table | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="first-lines" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Autocento of the breakfast table</h1>
@@ -40,25 +36,27 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><a href="deadman.html">A dead man finds his way into our hearts</a> <a href="movingsideways.html">a dog moving sideways is sick; a man moving sideways is drunk.</a> <a href="building.html">ART and CRAFT are only the inside and outside of the same building.</a> <a href="angeltoabraham.html">Abraham, Abraham, you are old and cannot hear:</a> <a href="big-dipper.html">after searching for days or even months</a> <a href="and.html">and you were there in the start of it all</a> <a href="tapestry.html">apparently typewriters need ribbon.</a> <a href="ex-machina.html">Bottom of the drink: they had</a> <a href="paul.html">contents of the shed</a>.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><a href="statements-frag.html">“Can one truly describe an emotion?” Eli asked me over the walkie-talkie.</a> <a href="about_author.html">Case Duckworth is the cowardly but lovable Great Dane who solves mysteries on TV.</a> <a href="last-bastion.html">Dimly remembered celebrity chefs shuffle</a>. <a href="question.html">“Do you have to say your thoughts out loud for them to mean anything” Paul asked Jill on his first coffee break at work.</a> <a href="planks.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME</a>. <a href="swear.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME</a>. <a href="love-as-god.html">God is love, they say, but there is</a> <a href="window.html">hymn 386: jokes</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="deadman.html">A dead man finds his way into our hearts</a> <a href="movingsideways.html">a dog moving sideways is sick; a man moving sideways is drunk.</a> <a href="building.html">ART and CRAFT are only the inside and outside of the same building.</a> <a href="angeltoabraham.html">Abraham, Abraham, you are old and cannot hear:</a> <a href="big-dipper.html">after searching for days or even months</a> <a href="and.html">and you were there in the start of it all</a> <a href="tapestry.html">apparently typewriters need ribbon.</a> <a href="ex-machina.html">Bottom of the drink: they had</a> <a href="paul.html">contents of the shed</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="shipwright.html">He builds a ship as if it were the last thing</a> <a href="sapling.html">he chopped down: a sapling pine tree and looked at his watch.</a> <a href="toothpaste.html">He couldn’t find a shirt to go to work in.</a> <a href="wallpaper.html">He didn’t go back into the shed for a long time.</a> <a href="deathstrumpet.html">He didn’t have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing,</a> <a href="underwear.html">he dropped the penny in the dryer, turned it on, and turned around.</a> <a href="squirrel.html">He is so full in himself:</a> <a href="hands.html">He looked down at his hands idly while he was typing.</a> <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">He said at the beginning, “It’s like rolling yarn into a too-small ball.</a>&quot; <a href="writing.html">He sat down at his writing desk and removed his new pen from its plastic wrapping.</a> <a href="leaf.html">He shrugged the wood off his shoulder, letting it fall with a clog onto the earth floor of his Writing Shack.</a> <a href="stump.html">He walked into the woods for the first time in months.</a> <a href="about-the-author.html">He was born on a few separate occasions: green traffic lights at night</a>. <a href="cereal.html">He woke up after eleven and didn’t go outside all day, not even to his Writing Shack.</a> <a href="yellow.html">He would enter data at work for fifty minutes and then go on break.</a> <a href="joke.html">He wrote JOKES on the top of a page in his notebook.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="statements-frag.html">“Can one truly describe an emotion?” Eli asked me over the walkie-talkie.</a> <a href="about_author.html">Case Duckworth is the cowardly but lovable Great Dane who solves mysteries on TV.</a> <a href="last-bastion.html">Dimly remembered celebrity chefs shuffle</a>. <a href="question.html">“Do you have to say your thoughts out loud for them to mean anything” Paul asked Jill on his first coffee break at work.</a> <a href="planks.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME</a>. <a href="swear.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME</a>. <a href="love-as-god.html">God is love, they say, but there is</a> <a href="window.html">hymn 386: jokes</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="phone.html">“Hello Paul this is Jill Jill Noe remember me” the voice on the phone was a woman’s.</a> <a href="leg.html">His first chair was a stool.</a> <a href="hardware.html">His mother drove him to the Hardware Store on a Tuesday.</a> <a href="fire.html">His mother ran out of the house in her nightgown.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="shipwright.html">He builds a ship as if it were the last thing</a> <a href="sapling.html">he chopped down: a sapling pine tree and looked at his watch.</a> <a href="toothpaste.html">He couldn’t find a shirt to go to work in.</a> <a href="wallpaper.html">He didn’t go back into the shed for a long time.</a> <a href="deathstrumpet.html">He didn’t have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing,</a> <a href="underwear.html">he dropped the penny in the dryer, turned it on, and turned around.</a> <a href="squirrel.html">He is so full in himself:</a> <a href="hands.html">He looked down at his hands idly while he was typing.</a> <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">He said at the beginning, “It’s like rolling yarn into a too-small ball.</a>&quot; <a href="writing.html">He sat down at his writing desk and removed his new pen from its plastic wrapping.</a> <a href="leaf.html">He shrugged the wood off his shoulder, letting it fall with a clog onto the earth floor of his Writing Shack.</a> <a href="stump.html">He walked into the woods for the first time in months.</a> <a href="about-the-author.html">He was born on a few separate occasions: green traffic lights at night</a>. <a href="cereal.html">He woke up after eleven and didn’t go outside all day, not even to his Writing Shack.</a> <a href="yellow.html">He would enter data at work for fifty minutes and then go on break.</a> <a href="joke.html">He wrote JOKES on the top of a page in his notebook.</a></p>
-<p><a href="words-meaning.html">“How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, / and frightening that it does not quite,” Jack Gilbert opens his poem “The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart.”</a> <a href="on-genre-dimension.html">How does one describe a poem?</a> <a href="i-am.html">I am a great pillar of white smoke.</a> <a href="walking-in-the-rain.html">I can walk through the rain, that rare occurrence</a>. <a href="exasperated.html">I didn’t write this sestina yesterday.</a> <a href="snow.html">I don’t care if they burn he wrote on his last blank notecard.</a> <a href="in-bed.html">I hear the rats run</a>. <a href="roughgloves.html">I lost my hands &amp; knit replacement ones</a>. <a href="plant.html">I need a plant. I need a thing</a>. <a href="sense-of-it.html">I only write poems on the bus anymore.</a> <a href="epigraph.html">I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.</a> <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">I saw two Eskimo girls playing a game</a> <a href="onformalpoetry.html">I think that I could write formal poems</a>; <a href="i-think-its-you.html">I thought I saw you walking</a>. <a href="dollywood.html">I turned off the TV as soon as the end credits began.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="phone.html">“Hello Paul this is Jill Jill Noe remember me” the voice on the phone was a woman’s.</a> <a href="leg.html">His first chair was a stool.</a> <a href="hardware.html">His mother drove him to the Hardware Store on a Tuesday.</a> <a href="fire.html">His mother ran out of the house in her nightgown.</a></p>
-<p><a href="i-want-to-say.html">I want to say I take it all back</a>, <a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">I wanted to tell you something in order to</a> — <a href="howithappened.html">I was away on vacation when I heard —</a> <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">I wish I’d kissed you when I had the chance.</a> <a href="poetry-time.html">I’m writing this now because I have to.</a> <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">If Justin Bieber isn’t going for the sixteenth</a> — <a href="listen.html">if you swallow hard enough</a> — <a href="philosophy.html">importance is important.</a> <a href="riptide_memory.html">Inside of my memory, the poem is another memory.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="words-meaning.html">“How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, / and frightening that it does not quite,” Jack Gilbert opens his poem “The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart.”</a> <a href="on-genre-dimension.html">How does one describe a poem?</a> <a href="i-am.html">I am a great pillar of white smoke.</a> <a href="walking-in-the-rain.html">I can walk through the rain, that rare occurrence</a>. <a href="exasperated.html">I didn’t write this sestina yesterday.</a> <a href="snow.html">I don’t care if they burn he wrote on his last blank notecard.</a> <a href="in-bed.html">I hear the rats run</a>. <a href="roughgloves.html">I lost my hands &amp; knit replacement ones</a>. <a href="plant.html">I need a plant. I need a thing</a>. <a href="sense-of-it.html">I only write poems on the bus anymore.</a> <a href="epigraph.html">I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.</a> <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">I saw two Eskimo girls playing a game</a> <a href="onformalpoetry.html">I think that I could write formal poems</a>; <a href="i-think-its-you.html">I thought I saw you walking</a>. <a href="dollywood.html">I turned off the TV as soon as the end credits began.</a></p>
-<p><a href="father.html">“Is man the natural thing that makes unnatural things” he thought to himself as he looked out the kitchen window at the shed.</a> <a href="dream.html">It had gotten cold.</a> <a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">It was a gamble</a>; <a href="telemarketer.html">it was one of those nameless gray buildings that could be seen from the street only if Larry craned his neck to almost vertical.</a> <a href="hymnal.html">It’s all jokes Paul wrote in what he was now calling his Hymnal.</a> <a href="january.html">January.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="i-want-to-say.html">I want to say I take it all back</a>, <a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">I wanted to tell you something in order to</a> — <a href="howithappened.html">I was away on vacation when I heard —</a> <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">I wish I’d kissed you when I had the chance.</a> <a href="poetry-time.html">I’m writing this now because I have to.</a> <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">If Justin Bieber isn’t going for the sixteenth</a> — <a href="listen.html">if you swallow hard enough</a> — <a href="philosophy.html">importance is important.</a> <a href="riptide_memory.html">Inside of my memory, the poem is another memory.</a></p>
-<p>“<a href="call-me-aural-pleasure.html">Like 40 as I challenge anyone to come too!</a> <a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">Look, I say — look here —</a> <a href="amber-alert.html">Lost things have a way of staying lost.</a>” <a href="cold-wind.html">Man of autumn, cold wind,</a> <a href="last-passenger.html">memory works strangely, spooling its thread</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="father.html">“Is man the natural thing that makes unnatural things” he thought to himself as he looked out the kitchen window at the shed.</a> <a href="dream.html">It had gotten cold.</a> <a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">It was a gamble</a>; <a href="telemarketer.html">it was one of those nameless gray buildings that could be seen from the street only if Larry craned his neck to almost vertical.</a> <a href="hymnal.html">It’s all jokes Paul wrote in what he was now calling his Hymnal.</a> <a href="january.html">January.</a></p>
-<p><a href="peaches.html">“My anger is like a peach,” he said.</a> “<a href="spittle.html">My body is attached to your body by a thin spittle of thought.</a>” <a href="the-night-we-met.html">My head is full of fire, my tongue swollen,</a> <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">nothing is ever over; nothing</a> — <a href="proverbs.html">nothing matters; everything is sacred.</a> <a href="boar.html">Now the ticking clocks scare me.</a></p>
+            <p>“<a href="call-me-aural-pleasure.html">Like 40 as I challenge anyone to come too!</a> <a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">Look, I say — look here —</a> <a href="amber-alert.html">Lost things have a way of staying lost.</a>” <a href="cold-wind.html">Man of autumn, cold wind,</a> <a href="last-passenger.html">memory works strangely, spooling its thread</a>.</p>
-<p><a href="prelude.html">Of course, there is a God.</a> — <a href="purpose-dogs.html">Okay, so there either is or isn’t a God.</a> <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">On your desk I set a tangerine:</a> <a href="notes.html">Paul began typing on notecards.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="peaches.html">“My anger is like a peach,” he said.</a> “<a href="spittle.html">My body is attached to your body by a thin spittle of thought.</a>” <a href="the-night-we-met.html">My head is full of fire, my tongue swollen,</a> <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">nothing is ever over; nothing</a> — <a href="proverbs.html">nothing matters; everything is sacred.</a> <a href="boar.html">Now the ticking clocks scare me.</a></p>
-<p><a href="toilet.html">Paul only did his reading on the toilet.</a> <a href="axe.html">Paul took his axe and went out into the woods to chop trees.</a> <a href="art.html">Paul was writing in his diary about art.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="prelude.html">Of course, there is a God.</a> — <a href="purpose-dogs.html">Okay, so there either is or isn’t a God.</a> <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">On your desk I set a tangerine:</a> <a href="notes.html">Paul began typing on notecards.</a></p>
-<p><a href="reports.html">“Paul, you can’t turn in your reports on four-by-six notecards” Jill told him after he handed her his reports, typed carefully on twelve four-by-six notecards.</a> <a href="stagnant.html">“Riding the bus to work is a good way to think or to read” Paul thought to himself on the bus ride to work.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="toilet.html">Paul only did his reading on the toilet.</a> <a href="axe.html">Paul took his axe and went out into the woods to chop trees.</a> <a href="art.html">Paul was writing in his diary about art.</a></p>
-<p><a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">Say there are no words. Say that we are conjoined</a>: <a href="music-433.html">silence lies underneath us all in the same way</a> <a href="apollo11.html">it’s the fucking moon. Big deal. As if</a> <a href="creation-myth.html">two hyperintelligent pandimensional beings</a> <a href="real-writer.html">feel as though I am not a real writer.</a> <a href="words-irritable-reaching.html">Somewhere I remember reading advice for beginning writers not to show their work to anyone, at least that in the early stages.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="reports.html">“Paul, you can’t turn in your reports on four-by-six notecards” Jill told him after he handed her his reports, typed carefully on twelve four-by-six notecards.</a> <a href="stagnant.html">“Riding the bus to work is a good way to think or to read” Paul thought to himself on the bus ride to work.</a></p>
-<p><a href="swansong.html">Swans fly overhead singing goodbye</a>: <a href="man.html">THIS MAN REFUSED TO OPEN HIS EYES</a>. <a href="treatise.html">TREATISE ON LITERATURE AS “SPOOKY ACTION AT A DISTANCE”</a>: <a href="likingthings.html">the definition of happiness is <em>doing stuff that you really like</em>.</a> <a href="table_contents.html">The look she gave me (Half-hours in heaven are three times that in hell)</a>. <a href="moon-drowning.html">The moon is drowning the stars it pushes them</a> — <a href="moongone.html">The moon is gone and in its place a mirror. Looking at the night sky now</a>, <a href="mountain.html">the other side of this mountain</a>: <a href="problems.html">the problem with people is this: we cannot be happy.</a> <a href="worse-looking-over.html">The radio is screaming the man</a> — <a href="serengeti.html">the self is a serengeti</a> — <a href="todaniel.html">there are more modern ideals of beauty</a> — <a href="what-we-are-made-of.html">there is a cave just outside of Flagstaff made from ancient lava flows.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">Say there are no words. Say that we are conjoined</a>: <a href="music-433.html">silence lies underneath us all in the same way</a> <a href="apollo11.html">it’s the fucking moon. Big deal. As if</a> <a href="creation-myth.html">two hyperintelligent pandimensional beings</a> <a href="real-writer.html">feel as though I am not a real writer.</a> <a href="words-irritable-reaching.html">Somewhere I remember reading advice for beginning writers not to show their work to anyone, at least that in the early stages.</a></p>
-<p><a href="initial-conditions.html">There is a theory which states the Universe</a>, <a href="howtoread.html">this book, is an exploration of life, of all possible lives that could be lived.</a> <a href="swansong-alt.html">This poem is dry like chapped lips.</a> <a href="finding-the-lion.html">Tonight, as I look up, the stars</a>, <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">waiting for a reading to start</a>, <a href="lovesong.html">walking along in the dark, is a good way to begin a song.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="swansong.html">Swans fly overhead singing goodbye</a>: <a href="man.html">THIS MAN REFUSED TO OPEN HIS EYES</a>. <a href="treatise.html">TREATISE ON LITERATURE AS “SPOOKY ACTION AT A DISTANCE”</a>: <a href="likingthings.html">the definition of happiness is <em>doing stuff that you really like</em>.</a> <a href="table_contents.html">The look she gave me (Half-hours in heaven are three times that in hell)</a>. <a href="moon-drowning.html">The moon is drowning the stars it pushes them</a> — <a href="moongone.html">The moon is gone and in its place a mirror. Looking at the night sky now</a>, <a href="mountain.html">the other side of this mountain</a>: <a href="problems.html">the problem with people is this: we cannot be happy.</a> <a href="worse-looking-over.html">The radio is screaming the man</a> — <a href="serengeti.html">the self is a serengeti</a> — <a href="todaniel.html">there are more modern ideals of beauty</a> — <a href="what-we-are-made-of.html">there is a cave just outside of Flagstaff made from ancient lava flows.</a></p>
-<p><a href="lappel-du-vide.html">Walter rides the bus into work on Wednesday morning when he realizes, with the force and surprise of a rogue current, that he is in the home-for-death phase of life.</a> <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">We found your shirt deep in the dark water</a> — <a href="options.html">what did he do when he was in the woods?</a></p>
+            <p><a href="initial-conditions.html">There is a theory which states the Universe</a>, <a href="howtoread.html">this book, is an exploration of life, of all possible lives that could be lived.</a> <a href="swansong-alt.html">This poem is dry like chapped lips.</a> <a href="finding-the-lion.html">Tonight, as I look up, the stars</a>, <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">waiting for a reading to start</a>, <a href="lovesong.html">walking along in the dark, is a good way to begin a song.</a></p>
-<p><a href="shed.html">“What do you do all day in that shed out back” his mother asked one night while they ate dinner in front of the TV.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="lappel-du-vide.html">Walter rides the bus into work on Wednesday morning when he realizes, with the force and surprise of a rogue current, that he is in the home-for-death phase of life.</a> <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">We found your shirt deep in the dark water</a> — <a href="options.html">what did he do when he was in the woods?</a></p>
-<p><a href="manifesto_poetics.html">What is a poem?</a> <a href="arspoetica.html">What is poetry?</a> <a href="largest-asteroid.html">What secrets does it hold?</a> <a href="death-zone.html">When I think of death I think</a>, <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">when Ronald McDonald takes off his striped shirt,</a> <a href="punch.html">when he finally got back to work, he was surprised they threw him a party.</a> <a href="boy_bus.html">When he said Bible I heard his southern accent</a>: <a href="100-lines.html">whenever you call me friend</a> <a href="x-ray.html">while chopping a tree in the woods with his hatchet (a Christmas gift from his mother) a bird he’d never heard before cried out.</a> <a href="no-nothing.html">While swimming in the river</a>: <a href="early.html">YOU CANNOT DISCOVER ART ART MUST BE CREATED he sat on the couch at home while his mother watched TV and smoked.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="shed.html">“What do you do all day in that shed out back” his mother asked one night while they ate dinner in front of the TV.</a></p>
-<p><a href="feedingtheraven.html">You never can tell just when Charlie Sheen will enter your life.</a> <a href="hard-game.html">You think building Hoggle’s a hard game?</a> <a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">Your casserole dish takes the longest:</a> <a href="something-simple.html">in mammals the ratio between bladder size</a> <a href="collage-instrument.html">has been a part of the Unix toolset since the late 70s.</a></p></section>
+            <p><a href="manifesto_poetics.html">What is a poem?</a> <a href="arspoetica.html">What is poetry?</a> <a href="largest-asteroid.html">What secrets does it hold?</a> <a href="death-zone.html">When I think of death I think</a>, <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">when Ronald McDonald takes off his striped shirt,</a> <a href="punch.html">when he finally got back to work, he was surprised they threw him a party.</a> <a href="boy_bus.html">When he said Bible I heard his southern accent</a>: <a href="100-lines.html">whenever you call me friend</a> <a href="x-ray.html">while chopping a tree in the woods with his hatchet (a Christmas gift from his mother) a bird he’d never heard before cried out.</a> <a href="no-nothing.html">While swimming in the river</a>: <a href="early.html">YOU CANNOT DISCOVER ART ART MUST BE CREATED he sat on the couch at home while his mother watched TV and smoked.</a></p>
+            <p><a href="feedingtheraven.html">You never can tell just when Charlie Sheen will enter your life.</a> <a href="hard-game.html">You think building Hoggle’s a hard game?</a> <a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">Your casserole dish takes the longest:</a> <a href="something-simple.html">in mammals the ratio between bladder size</a> <a href="collage-instrument.html">has been a part of the Unix toolset since the late 70s.</a></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
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+++ b/fonts/libertine.css

diff --git a/found-typewriter-poem.html b/found-typewriter-poem.html
index 5bbfc92..a2293e3 100644
--- a/found-typewriter-poem.html
+++ b/found-typewriter-poem.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Look | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="found-typewriter-poem" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Look</h1>
@@ -45,9 +41,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Look, I say—look here—<br />at this <a href="planks.html">old place<br />where nothing changes</a>.<br />Look at the people<br />who pass by. Look at<br />the trees. The flowers<br />full of wanting: look<br /><a href="squirrel.html">how full they are</a> with<br />color. Look how they mock<br />us, empty people who<br />must fill themselves<br />with changes—emptiness.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>“<a href="elegeyforanalternateself.html">There is nothing</a> to be<br />but happy. <a href="no-nothing.html">There is no</a><br />sadness to fall down<br />like cherry petals.”</p>
+            <p>Look, I say—look here—<br />at this <a href="planks.html">old place<br />where nothing changes</a>.<br />Look at the people<br />who pass by. Look at<br />the trees. The flowers<br />full of wanting: look<br /><a href="squirrel.html">how full they are</a> with<br />color. Look how they mock<br />us, empty people who<br />must fill themselves<br />with changes—emptiness.</p>
-<p>The <a href="plant.html">trees don’t under-<br />stand:</a> they are too<br />tall to see the germ<br />of discontent in us.</p></section>
+            <p>“<a href="elegeyforanalternateself.html">There is nothing</a> to be<br />but happy. <a href="no-nothing.html">There is no</a><br />sadness to fall down<br />like cherry petals.”</p>
+            <p>The <a href="plant.html">trees don’t under-<br />stand:</a> they are too<br />tall to see the germ<br />of discontent in us.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/hands.html b/hands.html
index e23b6d7..107edd3 100644
--- a/hands.html
+++ b/hands.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Hands | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="hands" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Hands</h1>
@@ -40,12 +36,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He looked down at his hands idly while he was typing. They were <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">dry and cracked in places</a>. He thought he might start bleeding so he went inside for some lotion.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Do we have any lotion” he asked his mother. “In the medicine cabinet” she said without looking up from the TV. He walked into the <a href="boar.html">bathroom</a> and looked at himself in the mirror. “I look strange” he said to himself “I look like a teenager.” He stared into his <a href="man.html">right eye, then his left</a>. He saw nothing but <a href="deathstrumpet.html">his own reflection fish-eyed</a> in his pupils. He opened the medicine cabinet.</p>
+            <p>He looked down at his hands idly while he was typing. They were <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">dry and cracked in places</a>. He thought he might start bleeding so he went inside for some lotion.</p>
-<p>Back in his Writing Shack, he started to type.</p>
+            <p>“Do we have any lotion” he asked his mother. “In the medicine cabinet” she said without looking up from the TV. He walked into the <a href="boar.html">bathroom</a> and looked at himself in the mirror. “I look strange” he said to himself “I look like a teenager.” He stared into his <a href="man.html">right eye, then his left</a>. He saw nothing but <a href="deathstrumpet.html">his own reflection fish-eyed</a> in his pupils. He opened the medicine cabinet.</p>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>Back in his Writing Shack, he started to type.</p>
-<p>What is it about hands that gives them such power? It is that their power is hidden in the arm. Push on the inside of the wrist–the hand closes. Reach under the skin and pull on the outside tendons– the hand opens again. Hands are only <a href="ex-machina.html">machines</a> for grasping, controlled by the arm, not the mind.</p>
+            <blockquote>
-</blockquote></section>
+            <p>What is it about hands that gives them such power? It is that their power is hidden in the arm. Push on the inside of the wrist–the hand closes. Reach under the skin and pull on the outside tendons– the hand opens again. Hands are only <a href="ex-machina.html">machines</a> for grasping, controlled by the arm, not the mind.</p>
+            </blockquote>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="shed.html"
diff --git a/hard-game.html b/hard-game.html
index 6c689bc..66fe1ad 100644
--- a/hard-game.html
+++ b/hard-game.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>A hard game | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="hard-game" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">A hard game</h1>
@@ -42,12 +38,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>You think building Hoggle’s a hard game?<br />You know bunk. Writing a ghazal’s a hard game.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Let’s meet in a place where words &amp; fabric play—<br />but not <a href="sense-of-it.html">plastic</a> words. (Boggle’s a hard game.)</p>
+            <p>You think building Hoggle’s a hard game?<br />You know bunk. Writing a ghazal’s a hard game.</p>
-<p>A cookout where we can hash our differences<br />over steak, though making it sizzle’s a hard game.</p>
+            <p>Let’s meet in a place where words &amp; fabric play—<br />but not <a href="sense-of-it.html">plastic</a> words. (Boggle’s a hard game.)</p>
-<p>Let’s go to a brothel, <a href="finding-the-lion.html">rub shoulders</a> with bare<br />shoulders, or a bar. Being wastrel’s a hard game.</p>
+            <p>A cookout where we can hash our differences<br />over steak, though making it sizzle’s a hard game.</p>
-<p>Maybe we could switch professions, you and I,<br />you write the poems, I’ll puppet Fozzie—a hard game.</p>
+            <p>Let’s go to a brothel, <a href="finding-the-lion.html">rub shoulders</a> with bare<br />shoulders, or a bar. Being wastrel’s a hard game.</p>
-<p>When you call me, you never say my name.<br />Creativity’s <a href="fire.html">a hose</a>—shutting the nozzle’s the hard game.</p></section>
+            <p>Maybe we could switch professions, you and I,<br />you write the poems, I’ll puppet Fozzie—a hard game.</p>
+            <p>When you call me, you never say my name.<br />Creativity’s <a href="fire.html">a hose</a>—shutting the nozzle’s the hard game.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/hardware.html b/hardware.html
index 2f1e655..233b8a6 100644
--- a/hardware.html
+++ b/hardware.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Hardware | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="hardware" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Hardware</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>His mother drove him to the Hardware Store on a Tuesday. “I’m glad to see you’ve taken my advice for once” she said. “What do you mean.” “Applying to work at the Hardware Store. I’m <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">proud of you</a> Paul.”</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Oh right. Sure thing.” They pulled into the parking lot. “Just be a minute” he said as he opened the car door.</p>
+            <p>His mother drove him to the Hardware Store on a Tuesday. “I’m glad to see you’ve taken my advice for once” she said. “What do you mean.” “Applying to work at the Hardware Store. I’m <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">proud of you</a> Paul.”</p>
-<p>He walked under the door resplendent in its King William orange and white. He saw the towering rows of shelves like mountain ridges in Hell. He strolled among the fixtures, pipes, planks, sheets, plants (Why plants? he thought), switches. He realized he didn’t know the first thing about building <a href="real-writer.html">furniture</a>. “I don’t know the first thing” he muttered to himself “about building furniture. I know the last thing would be a couch or chair or stool but the first thing is a <a href="love-as-god.html">mystery</a>.” He turned around and walked straight out of the store and to his mother’s car without looking up.</p>
+            <p>“Oh right. Sure thing.” They pulled into the parking lot. “Just be a minute” he said as he opened the car door.</p>
-<p>“How’d it go” she asked starting the car. “Great” he said.</p></section>
+            <p>He walked under the door resplendent in its King William orange and white. He saw the towering rows of shelves like mountain ridges in Hell. He strolled among the fixtures, pipes, planks, sheets, plants (Why plants? he thought), switches. He realized he didn’t know the first thing about building <a href="real-writer.html">furniture</a>. “I don’t know the first thing” he muttered to himself “about building furniture. I know the last thing would be a couch or chair or stool but the first thing is a <a href="love-as-god.html">mystery</a>.” He turned around and walked straight out of the store and to his mother’s car without looking up.</p>
+            <p>“How’d it go” she asked starting the car. “Great” he said.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="planks.html"
diff --git a/howithappened.html b/howithappened.html
index 02516cb..091ec5d 100644
--- a/howithappened.html
+++ b/howithappened.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>How it happened | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="howithappened" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">How it happened</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I was away on vacation when I heard—<br />someone sat at my desk while I was away.<br />They took my pen, while I was taking<br />surf lessons, and wrote the sun into the sky.<br />They pre-approved the earth and the waters,<br />and all of the living things, without even<br />having the decency to text me. It was not I<br />who was behind the phrase “creeping things.”<br />When I got back, of course I was pissed,<br />but it was <a href="shipwright.html">already written</a> into the policy.<br />I’m just saying: don’t blame me for Cain<br />killing Abel. That was a murder. I’m not a cop.<br />The Tower of Babel fell on its own. The ark<br />never saw a single drop of rain. I’m <a href="problems.html">the drunk</a><br />sitting on the curb who just pissed his pants,<br />holding up a sign asking where I am.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>I was away on vacation when I heard—<br />someone sat at my desk while I was away.<br />They took my pen, while I was taking<br />surf lessons, and wrote the sun into the sky.<br />They pre-approved the earth and the waters,<br />and all of the living things, without even<br />having the decency to text me. It was not I<br />who was behind the phrase “creeping things.”<br />When I got back, of course I was pissed,<br />but it was <a href="shipwright.html">already written</a> into the policy.<br />I’m just saying: don’t blame me for Cain<br />killing Abel. That was a murder. I’m not a cop.<br />The Tower of Babel fell on its own. The ark<br />never saw a single drop of rain. I’m <a href="problems.html">the drunk</a><br />sitting on the curb who just pissed his pants,<br />holding up a sign asking where I am.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="i-am.html"
diff --git a/howtoread.html b/howtoread.html
index c87e7ff..35986e7 100644
--- a/howtoread.html
+++ b/howtoread.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>How to read this | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="howtoread" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">How to read this</h1>
@@ -40,19 +36,21 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>This book is an exploration of life, of all possible lives that could be lived. Each of the poems contained herein have been written by a different person, with his own history, culture, and emotions. True, they are all related, but no more than any of us is related through our genetics, our shared planet, or our yearnings.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Fernando Pessoa wrote poems under four different identities—he called them <em>heteronyms</em>—that were known during his lifetime, though after his death over sixty have been found and catalogued. He called them heteronyms as opposed to pseudonyms because they were much more than names he wrote under. They were truly different writing selves, concerned with different ideas and writing with different styles: Alberto Caeiro wrote pastorals; Ricardo Reis wrote more formal odes; Álvaro de Campos wrote these long, Whitman-esque pieces (one to Whitman himself); and Pessoa’s own name was used for poems that are kind of similar to all the others. It seems as though Pessoa found it inefficient to try and write everything he wanted only in his own self; rather he parceled out the different pieces and developed them into full identities, at the cost of his own: “I subsist as a kind of medium of myself, but I’m less real than the others, less substantial, less personal, and easily influenced by them all.” de Campos said of him at one point, “<a href="philosophy.html">Fernando Pessoa, strictly speaking, doesn’t exist.</a>”</p>
+            <p>This book is an exploration of life, of all possible lives that could be lived. Each of the poems contained herein have been written by a different person, with his own history, culture, and emotions. True, they are all related, but no more than any of us is related through our genetics, our shared planet, or our yearnings.</p>
-<p>It’s not just Pessoa—I, strictly speaking, don’t exist, both as the specific me that writes this now and as the concept of selfhood, the ego. Heraclitus famously said that we can’t step into the <a href="mountain.html">same river</a> twice, and the fact of the matter is that we can’t occupy the same self twice. It’s constantly changing and adapting to new stimuli from the environment, from other selves, from inside itself, and each time it forms anew into something that’s never existed before. The person I am beginning a poem is a separate being than the one I am finishing a poem, and part of it is the poem I’ve written has brought forth some other dish onto the great table that is myself.</p>
+            <p>Fernando Pessoa wrote poems under four different identities—he called them <em>heteronyms</em>—that were known during his lifetime, though after his death over sixty have been found and catalogued. He called them heteronyms as opposed to pseudonyms because they were much more than names he wrote under. They were truly different writing selves, concerned with different ideas and writing with different styles: Alberto Caeiro wrote pastorals; Ricardo Reis wrote more formal odes; Álvaro de Campos wrote these long, Whitman-esque pieces (one to Whitman himself); and Pessoa’s own name was used for poems that are kind of similar to all the others. It seems as though Pessoa found it inefficient to try and write everything he wanted only in his own self; rather he parceled out the different pieces and developed them into full identities, at the cost of his own: “I subsist as a kind of medium of myself, but I’m less real than the others, less substantial, less personal, and easily influenced by them all.” de Campos said of him at one point, “<a href="philosophy.html">Fernando Pessoa, strictly speaking, doesn’t exist.</a>”</p>
-<p>In the same way, with each poem you read of this, you too could become a different person. Depending on which order you read them in, you could be any number of possible people. If you follow the threads I’ve laid out for you, there are so many possible selves; if you disregard those and go a different way there are quite a few more. However, at the end of the journey there is only one self that you will occupy, the others disappearing from this universe and going maybe somewhere else, maybe nowhere at all.</p>
+            <p>It’s not just Pessoa—I, strictly speaking, don’t exist, both as the specific me that writes this now and as the concept of selfhood, the ego. Heraclitus famously said that we can’t step into the <a href="mountain.html">same river</a> twice, and the fact of the matter is that we can’t occupy the same self twice. It’s constantly changing and adapting to new stimuli from the environment, from other selves, from inside itself, and each time it forms anew into something that’s never existed before. The person I am beginning a poem is a separate being than the one I am finishing a poem, and part of it is the poem I’ve written has brought forth some other dish onto the great table that is myself.</p>
-<p>There is a scene in <em>The Neverending Story</em> where Bastian is trying to find his way out of the desert. He opens a door and finds himself in the Temple of a Thousand Doors, which is never seen from the outside but only once someone enters it. It is a series of rooms with six sides each and three doors: one from the room before and two choices. In life, each of these rooms is a moment, but where Bastian can choose which of only two doors to enter each time, in life there can be any number of doors and we don’t always choose which to go through—in fact, I would argue that most of the time we aren’t allowed the luxury.</p>
+            <p>In the same way, with each poem you read of this, you too could become a different person. Depending on which order you read them in, you could be any number of possible people. If you follow the threads I’ve laid out for you, there are so many possible selves; if you disregard those and go a different way there are quite a few more. However, at the end of the journey there is only one self that you will occupy, the others disappearing from this universe and going maybe somewhere else, maybe nowhere at all.</p>
-<p>What happens to those other doors, those other possibilities? Is there some other version of the self that for whatever complexities of circumstance and will chose a different door at an earlier moment? The answer to this, of course, is that we can never know for sure, though this doesn’t keep us from trying through the process of regret. We go back and try that other door in our mind, extrapolating a possible present from our own past. This is ultimately unsatisfying, not only because whatever world is imagined is not the one currently lived, but because it becomes obvious that the alternate model of reality is not complete: we can only extrapolate from the original room, absolutely without knowledge of any subsequent possible choices. This causes a deep disappointment, a frustration with the inability to know all possible timelines (coupled with the insecurity that this may not be the best of all possible worlds) that we feel as regret.</p>
+            <p>There is a scene in <em>The Neverending Story</em> where Bastian is trying to find his way out of the desert. He opens a door and finds himself in the Temple of a Thousand Doors, which is never seen from the outside but only once someone enters it. It is a series of rooms with six sides each and three doors: one from the room before and two choices. In life, each of these rooms is a moment, but where Bastian can choose which of only two doors to enter each time, in life there can be any number of doors and we don’t always choose which to go through—in fact, I would argue that most of the time we aren’t allowed the luxury.</p>
-<p>In this way, every moment we live is an <a href="words-meaning.html">elegy</a> to every possible future that might have stemmed from it. Annie Dillard states this in a biological manner when she says in <em>Pilgrim at Tinker Creek</em>, “Every glistening egg is a memento mori.” Nature is inefficient—it spends a hundred lifetimes to get one that barely works. The fossil record is littered with the failed experiments of evolution, many of which failed due only to blind chance: an asteroid, a shift in weather patterns, an inefficient copulation method. Each living person today has twenty dead standing behind him, and that only counts the people that actually lived. How many missed opportunities stand behind any of us?</p>
+            <p>What happens to those other doors, those other possibilities? Is there some other version of the self that for whatever complexities of circumstance and will chose a different door at an earlier moment? The answer to this, of course, is that we can never know for sure, though this doesn’t keep us from trying through the process of regret. We go back and try that other door in our mind, extrapolating a possible present from our own past. This is ultimately unsatisfying, not only because whatever world is imagined is not the one currently lived, but because it becomes obvious that the alternate model of reality is not complete: we can only extrapolate from the original room, absolutely without knowledge of any subsequent possible choices. This causes a deep disappointment, a frustration with the inability to know all possible timelines (coupled with the insecurity that this may not be the best of all possible worlds) that we feel as regret.</p>
-<p>The real problem with all of this is that time is only additive. There’s no way to dial it back and start over, with new choices or new environments. Even when given the chance to do something again, we do it <em>again</em>, with the reality given by our previous action. Thus we are constantly creating and being created by the world. The self is never the same from one moment to the next.</p>
+            <p>In this way, every moment we live is an <a href="words-meaning.html">elegy</a> to every possible future that might have stemmed from it. Annie Dillard states this in a biological manner when she says in <em>Pilgrim at Tinker Creek</em>, “Every glistening egg is a memento mori.” Nature is inefficient—it spends a hundred lifetimes to get one that barely works. The fossil record is littered with the failed experiments of evolution, many of which failed due only to blind chance: an asteroid, a shift in weather patterns, an inefficient copulation method. Each living person today has twenty dead standing behind him, and that only counts the people that actually lived. How many missed opportunities stand behind any of us?</p>
-<p>A poem is like a snapshot of a self. If it’s any good, it captures the emotional core of the self at the time of writing for communication with future selves, either within the same person or outside of it. Thus revision is possible, and the new poem created will be yet another snapshot of the future self as changed by the original poem. The page becomes a window into the past, a particular past as experienced by one self. The poem is a remembering of a self that no longer exists, in other words, an elegy.</p>
+            <p>The real problem with all of this is that time is only additive. There’s no way to dial it back and start over, with new choices or new environments. Even when given the chance to do something again, we do it <em>again</em>, with the reality given by our previous action. Thus we are constantly creating and being created by the world. The self is never the same from one moment to the next.</p>
-<p>A snapshot doesn’t capture the entire subject, however. It leaves out the background as it’s obscured by foreground objects; it fails to include anything that isn’t contained in its finite frame. In order to build a working definition of identity, we must include all possible selves over all possible timelines, combined into one person: identity is the combined effect of all possible selves over time. A poem leaves much of this out: it is the one person standing in front of twenty ghosts.</p>
+            <p>A poem is like a snapshot of a self. If it’s any good, it captures the emotional core of the self at the time of writing for communication with future selves, either within the same person or outside of it. Thus revision is possible, and the new poem created will be yet another snapshot of the future self as changed by the original poem. The page becomes a window into the past, a particular past as experienced by one self. The poem is a remembering of a self that no longer exists, in other words, an elegy.</p>
-<p>A poem is the place where the selves of the reader and the speaker meet, in their respective times and places. In this way a poem is outside of time or place, because it changes its location each time it’s read. Each time it’s two different people meeting. The problem with a poem is that it’s such a small window—if we met in real life the way we met in poems, we would see nothing of anyone else but a square the size of a postage stamp. It has been argued this is the way we see time and ourselves in it, as well: Vonnegut uses the metaphor of a subject strapped to a railroad car moving at a set pace, with a six-foot-long metal tube placed in front of the subject’s eye; the landscape in the distance is time, and what we see is the only way in which we interact with it. It’s the same with a poem and the self: we can only see and interact with a small kernel. This is why it’s possible to write more than one poem.</p>
+            <p>A snapshot doesn’t capture the entire subject, however. It leaves out the background as it’s obscured by foreground objects; it fails to include anything that isn’t contained in its finite frame. In order to build a working definition of identity, we must include all possible selves over all possible timelines, combined into one person: identity is the combined effect of all possible selves over time. A poem leaves much of this out: it is the one person standing in front of twenty ghosts.</p>
-<p>Due to this kernel nature of poetry, a good poem should focus itself to extract as much meaning as possible from that one kernel of identity to which it has access. It should be an atom of selfhood, irreducible and resistant to paraphrase, because it tries to somehow echo the large unsayable part of identity outside the frame of the self. It is the <a href="arspoetica.html">kernel</a> that contains a universe, or that speaks around one that’s hidden; if it’s a successful poem then it makes the smallest circuit possible. This is why the commentary on poems is so voluminous: a poem is tightly packed meaning that commentators try to unpack to get at that universality inside it. A fortress of dialectic is constructed that ultimately obstructs the meaning behind the poem; it becomes the foreground in the photograph that disallows us to view the horizon beyond it.</p>
+            <p>A poem is the place where the selves of the reader and the speaker meet, in their respective times and places. In this way a poem is outside of time or place, because it changes its location each time it’s read. Each time it’s two different people meeting. The problem with a poem is that it’s such a small window—if we met in real life the way we met in poems, we would see nothing of anyone else but a square the size of a postage stamp. It has been argued this is the way we see time and ourselves in it, as well: Vonnegut uses the metaphor of a subject strapped to a railroad car moving at a set pace, with a six-foot-long metal tube placed in front of the subject’s eye; the landscape in the distance is time, and what we see is the only way in which we interact with it. It’s the same with a poem and the self: we can only see and interact with a small kernel. This is why it’s possible to write more than one poem.</p>
-<p>With this in mind, I collect these poems that were written over a period of four years into this book. Where I can, I insert cross-references (like the one above, in the margin) to other pieces in the text where I think the two resonate in some way. You can read this book in any way you’d like: you can go front-to-back, or back-to-front, or you can follow the arrows around, or you can work out a complex mathematical formula with Merseinne primes and logarithms and the 2000 Census information, or you can go completely randomly through like a magazine, or at least the way I flip through magazines. I think writing is a communication of the self, and I think this is the best way to communicate mine in all its multiversity.</p></section>
+            <p>Due to this kernel nature of poetry, a good poem should focus itself to extract as much meaning as possible from that one kernel of identity to which it has access. It should be an atom of selfhood, irreducible and resistant to paraphrase, because it tries to somehow echo the large unsayable part of identity outside the frame of the self. It is the <a href="arspoetica.html">kernel</a> that contains a universe, or that speaks around one that’s hidden; if it’s a successful poem then it makes the smallest circuit possible. This is why the commentary on poems is so voluminous: a poem is tightly packed meaning that commentators try to unpack to get at that universality inside it. A fortress of dialectic is constructed that ultimately obstructs the meaning behind the poem; it becomes the foreground in the photograph that disallows us to view the horizon beyond it.</p>
+            <p>With this in mind, I collect these poems that were written over a period of four years into this book. Where I can, I insert cross-references (like the one above, in the margin) to other pieces in the text where I think the two resonate in some way. You can read this book in any way you’d like: you can go front-to-back, or back-to-front, or you can follow the arrows around, or you can work out a complex mathematical formula with Merseinne primes and logarithms and the 2000 Census information, or you can go completely randomly through like a magazine, or at least the way I flip through magazines. I think writing is a communication of the self, and I think this is the best way to communicate mine in all its multiversity.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="epigraph.html"
diff --git a/hymnal.html b/hymnal.html
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Hymnal | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
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-<body>
+<body id="hymnal" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Hymnal</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em>It’s all <a href="joke.html">jokes</a></em> Paul wrote in what he was now calling his Hymnal. He had been writing non-stop all day, because he didn’t count pee or cigarette breaks. <em>All art is an inside joke. The symbology involved must be</em>—and here he put down his pen and held his head in his hands. He could never think of the word—he said often that he had no words. He opened to a new page in his Hymnal. On the top of it was written in bold script <em><strong>HYMN 386: JOKES</strong></em>.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Paul scowled. Who had written in his Hymnal? he wondered. He said it out loud a moment after: “Who has written in my Hymnal?” He realized he was alone in his Writing Shack, which was really a shed in the back of his mother’s garden. He wondered why he had to say his thoughts before they became real to him (if this was a habit or an inborn trait). He realized simultaneously that</p>
+            <p><em>It’s all <a href="joke.html">jokes</a></em> Paul wrote in what he was now calling his Hymnal. He had been writing non-stop all day, because he didn’t count pee or cigarette breaks. <em>All art is an inside joke. The symbology involved must be</em>—and here he put down his pen and held his head in his hands. He could never think of the word—he said often that he had no words. He opened to a new page in his Hymnal. On the top of it was written in bold script <em><strong>HYMN 386: JOKES</strong></em>.</p>
-<ol type="a">
+            <p>Paul scowled. Who had written in his Hymnal? he wondered. He said it out loud a moment after: “Who has written in my Hymnal?” He realized he was alone in his Writing Shack, which was really a shed in the back of his mother’s garden. He wondered why he had to say his thoughts before they became real to him (if this was a habit or an inborn trait). He realized simultaneously that</p>
-<li>he could ask someone and</li>
+            <ol type="a">
-<li>that this was something he wondered every time he spoke his thoughts out loud.</li>
+            <li>he could ask someone and</li>
-</ol>
+            <li>that this was something he wondered every time he spoke his thoughts out loud.</li>
-<p>He resolved to put the issue to rest by asking someone.</p></section>
+            </ol>
+            <p>He resolved to put the issue to rest by asking someone.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="art.html"
diff --git a/i-am.html b/i-am.html
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>I am | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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+<body id="i-am" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">I am</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I am a great pillar of <a href="deathstrumpet.html">white smoke</a>.<br />I am Lot’s nameless wife encased in salt.<br />I am the wound on Christ’s back as he moans<br />with the pounding of a hammer on his wrist.<br />I am the nail that holds my house together.<br />It is a strong house, built on a good foundation.<br />In the winter, it is warm and crawling things<br />cannot get in. This house will never burn down.<br />It is the house that I built, with my body<br />and with my strength. I am the only one who lives<br />here. I am both father and mother to a race<br />of <a href="plant.html">dust motes that worship me as a god</a>. I have<br />monuments built daily in my honor in dark<br />corners around the house. I destroy all of them<br />before I go to bed, but in the morning<br />there are still more. I don’t think I know<br />where all of them are. I <a href="howithappened.html">don’t think</a> I can get<br />to all of them anymore. There are too many.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>I am a great pillar of <a href="deathstrumpet.html">white smoke</a>.<br />I am Lot’s nameless wife encased in salt.<br />I am the wound on Christ’s back as he moans<br />with the pounding of a hammer on his wrist.<br />I am the nail that holds my house together.<br />It is a strong house, built on a good foundation.<br />In the winter, it is warm and crawling things<br />cannot get in. This house will never burn down.<br />It is the house that I built, with my body<br />and with my strength. I am the only one who lives<br />here. I am both father and mother to a race<br />of <a href="plant.html">dust motes that worship me as a god</a>. I have<br />monuments built daily in my honor in dark<br />corners around the house. I destroy all of them<br />before I go to bed, but in the morning<br />there are still more. I don’t think I know<br />where all of them are. I <a href="howithappened.html">don’t think</a> I can get<br />to all of them anymore. There are too many.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="onformalpoetry.html"
diff --git a/i-think-its-you.html b/i-think-its-you.html
index ee3724f..8ac4761 100644
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+++ b/i-think-its-you.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>I think it’s you (but it’s not) | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="i-think-its-you" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">I think it’s you (but it’s not)</h1>
@@ -45,8 +41,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I thought I saw you walking<br />to the bus stop but it was only<br />a <a href="feedingtheraven.html">raven</a>. His croaks sounded nothing<br />like your footsteps (as they pound<br />down the hallway toward my bedroom)<br />his <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">wings</a> looked nothing like your<br />legs (running on the wrong side<br />of the road away from my house)<br />I think the one resemblance was the eyes</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>But that’s too easy<br />It’s just that I was thinking<br />of you and a raven flew by<br />(maybe it was a <a href="stump.html">crow</a>)</p></section>
+            <p>I thought I saw you walking<br />to the bus stop but it was only<br />a <a href="feedingtheraven.html">raven</a>. His croaks sounded nothing<br />like your footsteps (as they pound<br />down the hallway toward my bedroom)<br />his <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">wings</a> looked nothing like your<br />legs (running on the wrong side<br />of the road away from my house)<br />I think the one resemblance was the eyes</p>
+            <p>But that’s too easy<br />It’s just that I was thinking<br />of you and a raven flew by<br />(maybe it was a <a href="stump.html">crow</a>)</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="boy_bus.html"
diff --git a/i-want-to-say.html b/i-want-to-say.html
index 3039e93..322cd0c 100644
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>I want to say | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="i-want-to-say" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">I want to say</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I want to say I take it all back<br />I want<br />I want to take it back I want it none of it<br />to be ever have happened not<br />when I saw you step over the rope<br />when we went to New York for a week<br />but stayed upstate when you punched me<br />hard in the solar plexus in Prague<br />when I looked in your face and <a href="deathstrumpet.html">saw myself</a><br />looking back smiling when we went on another trip<br />and another all the trips I want to have<br />stayed home I want to have seen the clouds<br />drifting past <a href="boy_bus.html">my car window</a> to have listened<br />to that sound the bridge makes driving over it<br />without thinking of you always it was you</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I want</p>
+            <p>I want to say I take it all back<br />I want<br />I want to take it back I want it none of it<br />to be ever have happened not<br />when I saw you step over the rope<br />when we went to New York for a week<br />but stayed upstate when you punched me<br />hard in the solar plexus in Prague<br />when I looked in your face and <a href="deathstrumpet.html">saw myself</a><br />looking back smiling when we went on another trip<br />and another all the trips I want to have<br />stayed home I want to have seen the clouds<br />drifting past <a href="boy_bus.html">my car window</a> to have listened<br />to that sound the bridge makes driving over it<br />without thinking of you always it was you</p>
-<p>I <a href="plant.html">want to be fresh</a> I want to roll out of bed<br />as though it were my <a href="collage-instrument.html">first morning in a new state</a><br />I want nothing more than absolution of sins<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">a negation but there is no way to subtract here</a><br />I cannot remove this growth that appeared<br />seemingly overnight I cannot <a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">cut you away from myself</a><br />I cannot forget what has already and will always have been<br />I cannot get out of a <a href="in-bed.html">new bed</a> ever<br />New York will always be as it was when I saw it first<br />with you my breathing will always be labored outside<br />of the cafe I will always see you when <a href="lovesong.html">I look in a mirror</a><br />of someone’s face the reflection of missed thoughts missed<br /><a href="words-meaning.html">words will cease to give meaning</a> the center will come out<br />of me I will make a new center yes I will drag what is<br />your center around with me and <a href="question.html">repeat and repeat</a> again<br />I cannot want cannot want want not</p></section>
+            <p>I want</p>
+            <p>I <a href="plant.html">want to be fresh</a> I want to roll out of bed<br />as though it were my <a href="collage-instrument.html">first morning in a new state</a><br />I want nothing more than absolution of sins<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">a negation but there is no way to subtract here</a><br />I cannot remove this growth that appeared<br />seemingly overnight I cannot <a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">cut you away from myself</a><br />I cannot forget what has already and will always have been<br />I cannot get out of a <a href="in-bed.html">new bed</a> ever<br />New York will always be as it was when I saw it first<br />with you my breathing will always be labored outside<br />of the cafe I will always see you when <a href="lovesong.html">I look in a mirror</a><br />of someone’s face the reflection of missed thoughts missed<br /><a href="words-meaning.html">words will cease to give meaning</a> the center will come out<br />of me I will make a new center yes I will drag what is<br />your center around with me and <a href="question.html">repeat and repeat</a> again<br />I cannot want cannot want want not</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html b/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>I wanted to tell you something | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">I wanted to tell you something</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I wanted to tell you something in order <a href="poetry-time.html">to</a><br />explain the way I feel about the <a href="initial-conditions.html">Universe</a>,<br />its workings, etc. But I couldn’t <a href="exasperated.html">yesterday</a><br />—I’m sorry—I wanted only to <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">ball</a><br />myself up and cry all day. It was the <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">sixteenth</a><br />day in a row this happened to me, and to <a href="love-as-god.html">be</a></p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>more than two weeks waiting to cry is,<br />especially when, the whole time, I wasn’t able to,<br />absolutely horrible. It was no sweet sixteen,<br />I’ll tell you that much. Unless at yours, the Universe<br />kept telling you to quit having such a ball<br />and that you should have died, like, yesterday.</p>
+            <p>I wanted to tell you something in order <a href="poetry-time.html">to</a><br />explain the way I feel about the <a href="initial-conditions.html">Universe</a>,<br />its workings, etc. But I couldn’t <a href="exasperated.html">yesterday</a><br />—I’m sorry—I wanted only to <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">ball</a><br />myself up and cry all day. It was the <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">sixteenth</a><br />day in a row this happened to me, and to <a href="love-as-god.html">be</a></p>
-<p>At first, it feels like you’re winning—that yesterday<br />you really were meant to die, but since you still <em>are</em>,<br />you beat the system somehow. But the Universe bawls,<br />“No, I meant you should’ve crawled into<br />a hole and fucking <em>died</em>!” And then the Universe<br />punches you right in the gut, something like sixteen</p>
+            <p>more than two weeks waiting to cry is,<br />especially when, the whole time, I wasn’t able to,<br />absolutely horrible. It was no sweet sixteen,<br />I’ll tell you that much. Unless at yours, the Universe<br />kept telling you to quit having such a ball<br />and that you should have died, like, yesterday.</p>
-<p>times, and all you can think is, “Some sixteenth<br />birthday! Maybe I will go die in a hole.” Yesterday,<br />at times like this, is a luxury the cruel Universe<br />refuses to give you. This is when it’s a pain just to <em>be</em>,<br />when that Marvell line about “<a href="http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/coy.htm">rolling our stuff into one ball</a>”<br />just seems glib, when you don’t want one body, let alone two.</p>
+            <p>At first, it feels like you’re winning—that yesterday<br />you really were meant to die, but since you still <em>are</em>,<br />you beat the system somehow. But the Universe bawls,<br />“No, I meant you should’ve crawled into<br />a hole and fucking <em>died</em>!” And then the Universe<br />punches you right in the gut, something like sixteen</p>
-<p>Something else that may come as a surprise to<br />you: over the past more-than-a-fortnight, these sixteen<br />days, I’ve had nothing to eat but crackers and a cheese ball.<br />(That’s not entirely true—yesterday<br />I had some candy, peppermints and Jujubes.)<br />Maybe this is why I’m so mad at the Universe—</p>
+            <p>times, and all you can think is, “Some sixteenth<br />birthday! Maybe I will go die in a hole.” Yesterday,<br />at times like this, is a luxury the cruel Universe<br />refuses to give you. This is when it’s a pain just to <em>be</em>,<br />when that Marvell line about “<a href="http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/coy.htm">rolling our stuff into one ball</a>”<br />just seems glib, when you don’t want one body, let alone two.</p>
-<p>because all it has ever wanted, this Universe<br />that gave me life, fed me from its breast til I was two,<br />and even before that, made a place in which I could be—<br />all it’s wanted was for me to take the sixteen<br />steps to sobriety, fold the Eight-Fold Path over yesterday<br />and step around it lightly, as I would an exercise ball,</p>
+            <p>Something else that may come as a surprise to<br />you: over the past more-than-a-fortnight, these sixteen<br />days, I’ve had nothing to eat but crackers and a cheese ball.<br />(That’s not entirely true—yesterday<br />I had some candy, peppermints and Jujubes.)<br />Maybe this is why I’m so mad at the Universe—</p>
-<p>but the problem is, dear Universe, there’s no way I could be<br />something as hard as all that, to wake up yesterday<br />morning, stretch over my sixteen selves, bound out like a ball.</p></section>
+            <p>because all it has ever wanted, this Universe<br />that gave me life, fed me from its breast til I was two,<br />and even before that, made a place in which I could be—<br />all it’s wanted was for me to take the sixteen<br />steps to sobriety, fold the Eight-Fold Path over yesterday<br />and step around it lightly, as I would an exercise ball,</p>
+            <p>but the problem is, dear Universe, there’s no way I could be<br />something as hard as all that, to wake up yesterday<br />morning, stretch over my sixteen selves, bound out like a ball.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/in-bed.html b/in-bed.html
index ea86a64..fca2535 100644
--- a/in-bed.html
+++ b/in-bed.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>In bed | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="in-bed" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">In bed</h1>
@@ -40,60 +36,62 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><section id="i" class="level2">
+        <section class="content verse">
-<h2>I</h2>
+            <section id="i" class="level2">
-<p>I hear <a href="last-bastion.html">the rats</a> run<br />in the walls like water<br />through a tree. My blood</p>
+            <h2>I</h2>
-<p>thickens. As I dream<br />the masturbation dream<br />the shelf above my bed</p>
+            <p>I hear <a href="last-bastion.html">the rats</a> run<br />in the walls like water<br />through a tree. My blood</p>
-<p>falls covering me in<br />dirt and decaying beetles.<br /><a href="deathstrumpet.html">I see my reflection is headless</a>.</p>
+            <p>thickens. As I dream<br />the masturbation dream<br />the shelf above my bed</p>
-</section>
+            <p>falls covering me in<br />dirt and decaying beetles.<br /><a href="deathstrumpet.html">I see my reflection is headless</a>.</p>
-<section id="ii" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>II</h2>
+            <section id="ii" class="level2">
-<p>When the waves stop<br /><a href="moon-drowning.html">and the moon grins down</a><br />to overtake me: the car</p>
+            <h2>II</h2>
-<p>ran up the street that night<br />when you were nearly<br />molested in your neighbor’s house:</p>
+            <p>When the waves stop<br /><a href="moon-drowning.html">and the moon grins down</a><br />to overtake me: the car</p>
-<p>is this why we don’t have<br />neighbors? For this the trees<br /><a href="options.html">rot only for us</a>?</p>
+            <p>ran up the street that night<br />when you were nearly<br />molested in your neighbor’s house:</p>
-</section>
+            <p>is this why we don’t have<br />neighbors? For this the trees<br /><a href="options.html">rot only for us</a>?</p>
-<section id="iii" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>III</h2>
+            <section id="iii" class="level2">
-<p>I woke screaming and you<br />came to sit next to me. I felt<br />my eyes were open too wide</p>
+            <h2>III</h2>
-<p>that I could not shut them<br />from the horror movie sitting<br />on your lap in the easy chair</p>
+            <p>I woke screaming and you<br />came to sit next to me. I felt<br />my eyes were open too wide</p>
-<p>in the dream the other dream<br />in the living room under<br />the tree. Why do I feel guilty?</p>
+            <p>that I could not shut them<br />from the horror movie sitting<br />on your lap in the easy chair</p>
-</section>
+            <p>in the dream the other dream<br />in the living room under<br />the tree. Why do I feel guilty?</p>
-<section id="iv" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>IV</h2>
+            <section id="iv" class="level2">
-<p>I wake up in a pool of water<br /><a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">closed over me like an eyelid</a>.<br />There is no longer comfort</p>
+            <h2>IV</h2>
-<p>in staring at the ceiling.<br />Its pitch blackness beckons<br />into a future of blankness.</p>
+            <p>I wake up in a pool of water<br /><a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">closed over me like an eyelid</a>.<br />There is no longer comfort</p>
-<p>My body lay still quaking.<br />My mind is chained fast<br />to the beating of my heart.</p>
+            <p>in staring at the ceiling.<br />Its pitch blackness beckons<br />into a future of blankness.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>My body lay still quaking.<br />My mind is chained fast<br />to the beating of my heart.</p>
-<section id="v" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>V</h2>
+            <section id="v" class="level2">
-<p>I sit up slowly creaking.<br />I find myself alone buried<br /><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">in an ocean</a>. Far off</p>
+            <h2>V</h2>
-<p><a href="mountain.html">there is an eagle</a> flying<br />toward me. She lands on<br />my knee and lays an egg.</p>
+            <p>I sit up slowly creaking.<br />I find myself alone buried<br /><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">in an ocean</a>. Far off</p>
-<p>I think <em>not this again</em><br />something I’ve never<br />thought in my life.</p>
+            <p><a href="mountain.html">there is an eagle</a> flying<br />toward me. She lands on<br />my knee and lays an egg.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>I think <em>not this again</em><br />something I’ve never<br />thought in my life.</p>
-<section id="vi" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>VI</h2>
+            <section id="vi" class="level2">
-<p>I think <em>not this again</em><br />something I’ve never<br />thought in my life. Not</p>
+            <h2>VI</h2>
-<p>after losing my car keys<br />in the easy chair. Not after<br />scratching myself on a branch.</p>
+            <p>I think <em>not this again</em><br />something I’ve never<br />thought in my life. Not</p>
-<p>Not after finding the thing<br />in your dresser drawer that<br />night. <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">I remember you suddenly.</a></p>
+            <p>after losing my car keys<br />in the easy chair. Not after<br />scratching myself on a branch.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>Not after finding the thing<br />in your dresser drawer that<br />night. <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">I remember you suddenly.</a></p>
-<section id="vii" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>VII</h2>
+            <section id="vii" class="level2">
-<p><a href="#I">You run through me<br />like rats</a> down an alley.<br />You are in my <a href="plant.html">blood</a>.</p>
+            <h2>VII</h2>
-<p>You scared me once<br />remember? Jumped out<br />of the bathroom door.</p>
+            <p><a href="#I">You run through me<br />like rats</a> down an alley.<br />You are in my <a href="plant.html">blood</a>.</p>
-<p>I fell screaming onto<br />the linoleum. Did you<br />apologize? Did you need to?</p>
+            <p>You scared me once<br />remember? Jumped out<br />of the bathroom door.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>I fell screaming onto<br />the linoleum. Did you<br />apologize? Did you need to?</p>
-<section id="viii" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>VIII</h2>
+            <section id="viii" class="level2">
-<p>The ocean that surrounds me<br />creaks like a rocking<br />cradle. Your face bright</p>
+            <h2>VIII</h2>
-<p>as the moon at eclipse<br />and as <a href="window.html">red</a>. Low song<br />my tide stretching</p>
+            <p>The ocean that surrounds me<br />creaks like a rocking<br />cradle. Your face bright</p>
-<p>to the horizon. Ripples<br />on the surface belie<br />something bigger beneath.</p>
+            <p>as the moon at eclipse<br />and as <a href="window.html">red</a>. Low song<br />my tide stretching</p>
-</section>
+            <p>to the horizon. Ripples<br />on the surface belie<br />something bigger beneath.</p>
-<section id="ix" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>IX</h2>
+            <section id="ix" class="level2">
-<p>In bed I am alone for<br />the only time. In bed<br />I am a grown man.</p>
+            <h2>IX</h2>
-<p>Below the blankets I<br />know you for who you are.<br />In bed I see your face</p>
+            <p>In bed I am alone for<br />the only time. In bed<br />I am a grown man.</p>
-<p>pressed against the window.<br />I look out and see you<br />and I am not afraid.</p>
+            <p>Below the blankets I<br />know you for who you are.<br />In bed I see your face</p>
-</section></section>
+            <p>pressed against the window.<br />I look out and see you<br />and I am not afraid.</p>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/index.html b/index.html
index 3ebba39..50e3c86 100644
--- a/index.html
+++ b/index.html

@@ -9,7 +9,8 @@
        <title>Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
        <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/cover.css">
+        <!-- <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/cover.css"> -->
+        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/style.css">
        <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
        <script>
@@ -27,8 +28,8 @@
            <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
        <![endif]-->
    </head>
-    <body>
+    <body id="cover">
-        <article id="cover">
+        <article>
            <header>
                <h1 class="title">Autocento of the breakfast table</h1>
                <h2 class="byline">by
diff --git a/initial-conditions.html b/initial-conditions.html
index 0a4bd39..e2ccfda 100644
--- a/initial-conditions.html
+++ b/initial-conditions.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Initial conditions | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="initial-conditions" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Initial conditions</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>There is a theory which states the Universe<br />if it began with the same initial conditions<br />( <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">same gravity</a> same strong weak nuclear force same<br />size and shape ) would unfold in exactly<br />the way it has : with the same planets <a href="big-dipper.html">orbiting suns</a><br />same people making same mistakes : like this morning</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>( It’s actually past two but I will call it <a href="plant.html">morning</a> )<br />while turning on the shower : I as the Universe<br />intended ( although I was expecting the heat of suns )<br /><a href="100-lines.html">had the ice of inner space</a> : those pre existing conditions<br />before the Big Bang : the shower was almost exactly<br />freezing for a split second : every day it’s the same :</p>
+            <p>There is a theory which states the Universe<br />if it began with the same initial conditions<br />( <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">same gravity</a> same strong weak nuclear force same<br />size and shape ) would unfold in exactly<br />the way it has : with the same planets <a href="big-dipper.html">orbiting suns</a><br />same people making same mistakes : like this morning</p>
-<p><a href="hard-game.html">I turn on the tap</a> hop in pull the knob have the same<br />moment of utter panic then pain then a relaxing morning<br />shower where I spend between five to ten ( I’m not sure exactly )<br />minutes : I have good thoughts : <a href="howtoread.html">this poem about the Universe</a><br />for example : I had the idea while I was conditioning<br />my hair : it came to me like accidentally looking at the sun :</p>
+            <p>( It’s actually past two but I will call it <a href="plant.html">morning</a> )<br />while turning on the shower : I as the Universe<br />intended ( although I was expecting the heat of suns )<br /><a href="100-lines.html">had the ice of inner space</a> : those pre existing conditions<br />before the Big Bang : the shower was almost exactly<br />freezing for a split second : every day it’s the same :</p>
-<p>the pain and the wonder that something as large as suns<br />could appear so small and yet so hot all at the same<br />time : so hot in the summer we require air conditioning<br />( although now in the winter it’s cold in the morning )<br />and I can’t wait to hop in the shower that tiny universe<br />of water and steam and soap and <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">body</a> : that and only that exactly</p>
+            <p><a href="hard-game.html">I turn on the tap</a> hop in pull the knob have the same<br />moment of utter panic then pain then a relaxing morning<br />shower where I spend between five to ten ( I’m not sure exactly )<br />minutes : I have good thoughts : <a href="howtoread.html">this poem about the Universe</a><br />for example : I had the idea while I was conditioning<br />my hair : it came to me like accidentally looking at the sun :</p>
-<p>or rather exclusively ( it’s hard to get the words exactly<br />right : the meanings bleed into each other like the sun’s<br />shadows on pavement ) ready for me to <a href="dream.html">dream</a> another universe<br />into it on top of it again and again until they all look the same :<br />I can’t tell whether it’s my morning or the shower’s morning<br />or where I put the conditioner or what the initial conditions</p>
+            <p>the pain and the wonder that something as large as suns<br />could appear so small and yet so hot all at the same<br />time : so hot in the summer we require air conditioning<br />( although now in the winter it’s cold in the morning )<br />and I can’t wait to hop in the shower that tiny universe<br />of water and steam and soap and <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">body</a> : that and only that exactly</p>
-<p>could have been that decided I would misplace my conditioner<br />today : and why and how much planning was involved exactly<br />that would cause so far down the production line of this morning<br />: me to <a href="stump.html">wake up so long after the rising</a> of the sun<br />: me to stay inside all day even after showering to look at the same<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">computer screen</a> : to give up the actual universe to the universe</p>
+            <p>or rather exclusively ( it’s hard to get the words exactly<br />right : the meanings bleed into each other like the sun’s<br />shadows on pavement ) ready for me to <a href="dream.html">dream</a> another universe<br />into it on top of it again and again until they all look the same :<br />I can’t tell whether it’s my morning or the shower’s morning<br />or where I put the conditioner or what the initial conditions</p>
-<p>in there with its conditions : where <a href="reports.html">the screen serves</a> as sickly sun :<br />where there is apparently exactly what I need : no more : the same<br />three sites I visited this morning comprising my entire Universe</p></section>
+            <p>could have been that decided I would misplace my conditioner<br />today : and why and how much planning was involved exactly<br />that would cause so far down the production line of this morning<br />: me to <a href="stump.html">wake up so long after the rising</a> of the sun<br />: me to stay inside all day even after showering to look at the same<br /><a href="telemarketer.html">computer screen</a> : to give up the actual universe to the universe</p>
+            <p>in there with its conditions : where <a href="reports.html">the screen serves</a> as sickly sun :<br />where there is apparently exactly what I need : no more : the same<br />three sites I visited this morning comprising my entire Universe</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="i-think-its-you.html"
diff --git a/january.html b/january.html
index fddd118..bef0d7d 100644
--- a/january.html
+++ b/january.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>January | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="january" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">January</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>January.<br />It’s cold, and I don’t like it.<br />I prefer warm weather,<br />although I like sweaters. They are the one<br />warm spot in an otherwise <a href="tapestry.html">shitty</a> season.<br />But fall is better sweater weather. So be patient,</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p><em>patient</em>,<br />while waiting for the end of January.<br />A change of season<br />brings a change of mood along with it,<br />although I never thought I’d be one<br />to believe that <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">SAD</a> junk about effects of weather—</p>
+            <p>January.<br />It’s cold, and I don’t like it.<br />I prefer warm weather,<br />although I like sweaters. They are the one<br />warm spot in an otherwise <a href="tapestry.html">shitty</a> season.<br />But fall is better sweater weather. So be patient,</p>
-<p>weather!—<br />on a person. Who becomes a patient<br />just because of one<br /><a href="snow.html">month of snow</a>? I did say of January:<br />“It’s cold, and I don’t like it,”<br />but I hardly think it’s fair, knocking whole seasons,</p>
+            <p><em>patient</em>,<br />while waiting for the end of January.<br />A change of season<br />brings a change of mood along with it,<br />although I never thought I’d be one<br />to believe that <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">SAD</a> junk about effects of weather—</p>
-<p>seasoning<br />your conversation with demands for better weather.<br />(While I find it<br />nearly impossible, it’s my mission to be patient<br />while waiting for the end of January.)<br />Oh, but how the long nights do so <a href="http://www.irs.gov/">tax</a> one!</p>
+            <p>weather!—<br />on a person. Who becomes a patient<br />just because of one<br /><a href="snow.html">month of snow</a>? I did say of January:<br />“It’s cold, and I don’t like it,”<br />but I hardly think it’s fair, knocking whole seasons,</p>
-<p>One<br /><a href="real-writer.html">warm spot</a> in an otherwise shitty season—<br />all I ask, January,<br />is one warm day. Do you care whether<br />I’m a person who becomes a patient<br />in some psych ward? This just about does it.</p>
+            <p>seasoning<br />your conversation with demands for better weather.<br />(While I find it<br />nearly impossible, it’s my mission to be patient<br />while waiting for the end of January.)<br />Oh, but how the long nights do so <a href="http://www.irs.gov/">tax</a> one!</p>
-<p>I.T.,<br />although I never thought I’d call one,<br />is fair and patient<br />when I call. They talk with me, season<br />my conversation of demands for better weather<br />with an argument for the white beauty of January.</p>
+            <p>One<br /><a href="real-writer.html">warm spot</a> in an otherwise shitty season—<br />all I ask, January,<br />is one warm day. Do you care whether<br />I’m a person who becomes a patient<br />in some psych ward? This just about does it.</p>
-<p>They know it’s hard; they say each season<br />has its detractors. <em>One day</em>, they say, <em>the weather<br />will be controlled—until then, patience in January</em>.</p></section>
+            <p>I.T.,<br />although I never thought I’d call one,<br />is fair and patient<br />when I call. They talk with me, season<br />my conversation of demands for better weather<br />with an argument for the white beauty of January.</p>
+            <p>They know it’s hard; they say each season<br />has its detractors. <em>One day</em>, they say, <em>the weather<br />will be controlled—until then, patience in January</em>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/joke.html b/joke.html
index 9e2c839..1a0ca26 100644
--- a/joke.html
+++ b/joke.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Joke | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="joke" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Joke</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He wrote <em><strong>JOKES</strong></em> on the top of a page in his notebook. He had run out of notecards and hadn’t been able to convince his mother to go to the Office Supply Store for him. He left a space underneath it and wrote.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><em>“<a href="window.html">Tell us a joke</a>” the listeners say to the clown. They have gather together in the clearing because they have heard he would be there, and they have heard he knew very funny jokes that were also true. “Tell us a joke that is true” they say.</em></p>
+            <p>He wrote <em><strong>JOKES</strong></em> on the top of a page in his notebook. He had run out of notecards and hadn’t been able to convince his mother to go to the Office Supply Store for him. He left a space underneath it and wrote.</p>
-<p><em>The clown does not move from the stump. He doesn’t move at all. The listeners watch, gap-mouthed, as a butterfly lands on his hat. A breeze ruffles his coat and the butterfly flies away. Hours pass. The listeners grow impatient. Some begin yelling insults at the clown. Eventually, they begin to walk away into the woods.</em></p>
+            <p><em>“<a href="window.html">Tell us a joke</a>” the listeners say to the clown. They have gather together in the clearing because they have heard he would be there, and they have heard he knew very funny jokes that were also true. “Tell us a joke that is true” they say.</em></p>
-<p><em>The moon <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">rises</a> on the clearing. The only people left are the clown and a listener, the <a href="listen.html">last listener</a>. She has been waiting for the joke a long time. The clown opens his mouth and she leans in closer to hear. He closes it as a tear falls onto his coat, then another. He opens his mouth again in a sob. The listener walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.</em></p>
+            <p><em>The clown does not move from the stump. He doesn’t move at all. The listeners watch, gap-mouthed, as a butterfly lands on his hat. A breeze ruffles his coat and the butterfly flies away. Hours pass. The listeners grow impatient. Some begin yelling insults at the clown. Eventually, they begin to walk away into the woods.</em></p>
-<p><em>“I’m sorry” says the clown. “Sorry for what” she asks. “I don’t know. I don’t know any jokes.” He disappears. The last listener sits on the log and looks at the sky. There are no <a href="big-dipper.html">stars</a>.</em></p></section>
+            <p><em>The moon <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">rises</a> on the clearing. The only people left are the clown and a listener, the <a href="listen.html">last listener</a>. She has been waiting for the joke a long time. The clown opens his mouth and she leans in closer to hear. He closes it as a tear falls onto his coat, then another. He opens his mouth again in a sob. The listener walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.</em></p>
+            <p><em>“I’m sorry” says the clown. “Sorry for what” she asks. “I don’t know. I don’t know any jokes.” He disappears. The last listener sits on the log and looks at the sky. There are no <a href="big-dipper.html">stars</a>.</em></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="punch.html"
diff --git a/lappel-du-vide.html b/lappel-du-vide.html
index 56e3912..de74e12 100644
--- a/lappel-du-vide.html
+++ b/lappel-du-vide.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>L’appel du vide | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="lappel-du-vide" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">L’appel du vide</h1>
@@ -46,19 +42,21 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><section id="i.-walter" class="level2">
+        <section class="content prose">
-<h2>I. Walter</h2>
+            <section id="i.-walter" class="level2">
-<p>Walter <a href="sense-of-it.html">rides the bus</a> into work on Wednesday morning when he realizes, with the force and surprise of a rogue current, that he is in the home-for-death phase of life. That era in which the next time he goes under, to the fields of seaweed waving gently, the anemones slowly filtering seawater, it will most likely be for a death in the family.</p>
+            <h2>I. Walter</h2>
-<p>He is able to idly speculate on who it might be, and this surprises him. Not much does surprise him after these few months above the waves, because so many things did surprise him those first few months: the plants standing still, the quickness of the fluid these creatures walk in, the lack of pressure that still makes him feel so alone and cold—as if all of his life he had been in an embrace by the ocean, and now for some reason it’s pulled away from him, and it doesn’t love him anymore.</p>
+            <p>Walter <a href="sense-of-it.html">rides the bus</a> into work on Wednesday morning when he realizes, with the force and surprise of a rogue current, that he is in the home-for-death phase of life. That era in which the next time he goes under, to the fields of seaweed waving gently, the anemones slowly filtering seawater, it will most likely be for a death in the family.</p>
-<p>His speculations lead him to picture his grandmother, small and frail and forgetful. He always assumed she’d be next, since last year when the other one died and Gina said, “I wonder who’ll be next.” She said what they’d both been thinking.</p>
+            <p>He is able to idly speculate on who it might be, and this surprises him. Not much does surprise him after these few months above the waves, because so many things did surprise him those first few months: the plants standing still, the quickness of the fluid these creatures walk in, the lack of pressure that still makes him feel so alone and cold—as if all of his life he had been in an embrace by the ocean, and now for some reason it’s pulled away from him, and it doesn’t love him anymore.</p>
-<p>Soon after that he’d come up to land, to the mountains of all places, the most land-like land, and started a job with an <a href="telemarketer.html">accounting firm</a>. While it was challenging to adjust to the change in pressure and movement, to people staring at him on the bus, in the supermarket, at the job, him with his scales and fins and breathing machine, he’d always made a point to make the best out of a situation. The problem was that the best wasn’t good enough.</p>
+            <p>His speculations lead him to picture his grandmother, small and frail and forgetful. He always assumed she’d be next, since last year when the other one died and Gina said, “I wonder who’ll be next.” She said what they’d both been thinking.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>Soon after that he’d come up to land, to the mountains of all places, the most land-like land, and started a job with an <a href="telemarketer.html">accounting firm</a>. While it was challenging to adjust to the change in pressure and movement, to people staring at him on the bus, in the supermarket, at the job, him with his scales and fins and breathing machine, he’d always made a point to make the best out of a situation. The problem was that the best wasn’t good enough.</p>
-<section id="ii.-lappel-du-vide" class="level2 verse">
+            </section>
-<h2>II. L’appel du vide</h2>
+            <section id="ii.-lappel-du-vide" class="level2 verse">
-<p>And I’ll get in my car and drive<br />and I’ll want to keep driving<br />straight into the next state<br />or even the next country<br />or even even the ocean</p>
+            <h2>II. L’appel du vide</h2>
-<p>and go down deeper<br />keep exploring forever<br />find out what’s down there<br />go to the Marianas trench<br />miss the air world and<br />come back up<br />itself a kind of unknown<br />the homecoming after</p>
+            <p>And I’ll get in my car and drive<br />and I’ll want to keep driving<br />straight into the next state<br />or even the next country<br />or even even the ocean</p>
-<p>What happened to the home I was?</p>
+            <p>and go down deeper<br />keep exploring forever<br />find out what’s down there<br />go to the Marianas trench<br />miss the air world and<br />come back up<br />itself a kind of unknown<br />the homecoming after</p>
-</section></section>
+            <p>What happened to the home I was?</p>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="ouroboros_memory.html"
diff --git a/largest-asteroid.html b/largest-asteroid.html
index 679cabc..9b7fabc 100644
--- a/largest-asteroid.html
+++ b/largest-asteroid.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The largest asteroid in the asteroid belt | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="largest-asteroid" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The largest asteroid in the asteroid belt</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>What secrets does it hold?<br />Can it tell us who kissed Sara<br />that night on the veranda, or<br />who Joey is really in love with?<br />We all know it isn’t Sara, we<br />mean look at them Christmas eve<br />and he’s staring whistfully<br />at the stars, or the largest<br />asteroid in the asteroid belt.<br />She’s staring at him, sure, but<br />she sees the twinkle in his eye<br />is not aimed in her direction.<br />The reflection of that reflection<br />will beam into space, lightyears<br />of space, dimming slowly each<br />second, until it dies out like<br />all of Sara’s hopes for something<br />resembling love in this life, real<br />love that takes hold of her by<br />the throat and refuses to let go,<br />love that makes men travel for her<br />and only for her, love that launches<br />space ships to that asteroid, the<br />largest in the asteroid belt, that<br />jewel of dead rock and ice, harboring<br />something that could’ve been life<br /><a href="http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stevens-snowman.html">and nothing that actually is</a>.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>What secrets does it hold?<br />Can it tell us who kissed Sara<br />that night on the veranda, or<br />who Joey is really in love with?<br />We all know it isn’t Sara, we<br />mean look at them Christmas eve<br />and he’s staring whistfully<br />at the stars, or the largest<br />asteroid in the asteroid belt.<br />She’s staring at him, sure, but<br />she sees the twinkle in his eye<br />is not aimed in her direction.<br />The reflection of that reflection<br />will beam into space, lightyears<br />of space, dimming slowly each<br />second, until it dies out like<br />all of Sara’s hopes for something<br />resembling love in this life, real<br />love that takes hold of her by<br />the throat and refuses to let go,<br />love that makes men travel for her<br />and only for her, love that launches<br />space ships to that asteroid, the<br />largest in the asteroid belt, that<br />jewel of dead rock and ice, harboring<br />something that could’ve been life<br /><a href="http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stevens-snowman.html">and nothing that actually is</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/last-bastion.html b/last-bastion.html
index e2719c9..e261d15 100644
--- a/last-bastion.html
+++ b/last-bastion.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Last bastion | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="last-bastion" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Last bastion</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Dimly remembered celebrity chefs shuffle<br />down the cold and darkened highways of the heart.<br />They are the last personality left. They are <a href="http://biblehub.com/matthew/5-5.htm">the meek<br />who inherited the heart</a>, what was left of it.<br /> Without food to cook in new or exciting ways<br />nor audience to gasp and cackle, the chefs<br />of the heart quietly waste away while staring<br />doe-eyed into now-empty Safeway windows<br />checking under the dusty produce shelves<br />for something they pray the <a href="in-bed.html">rats</a> haven’t found yet.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Years ago, the economy of the heart boomed<br />and there was food everywhere. Produce<br />piled high in pyramids of devotion, meat in<br />gilded glass cases opulent under fluorescence,<br />dairy which ran like the <a href="music-433.html">mythical river</a> toward<br />cereals hot and cold. Under it all, thrumming<br />like great stone wheels on sand under a hot sun<br />near a river where reeds sang in the wind<br />the heart produced and gave reward for hard labor.</p>
+            <p>Dimly remembered celebrity chefs shuffle<br />down the cold and darkened highways of the heart.<br />They are the last personality left. They are <a href="http://biblehub.com/matthew/5-5.htm">the meek<br />who inherited the heart</a>, what was left of it.<br /> Without food to cook in new or exciting ways<br />nor audience to gasp and cackle, the chefs<br />of the heart quietly waste away while staring<br />doe-eyed into now-empty Safeway windows<br />checking under the dusty produce shelves<br />for something they pray the <a href="in-bed.html">rats</a> haven’t found yet.</p>
-<p>No one knows when it all ended. No one can say<br />if it was the heart that dried up or the heart’s supply.<br />Either way, food of the heart became scarcer and scarcer.<br />People began dying, not of starvation<br />but of a certain facial expression that could only<br />be described as desperation. Now<br />all that are left are the celebrity chefs, last bastion<br />of a once mighty empire of the <a href="sense-of-it.html">heart<br />are reduced to husks</a> blown dry by wind.</p></section>
+            <p>Years ago, the economy of the heart boomed<br />and there was food everywhere. Produce<br />piled high in pyramids of devotion, meat in<br />gilded glass cases opulent under fluorescence,<br />dairy which ran like the <a href="music-433.html">mythical river</a> toward<br />cereals hot and cold. Under it all, thrumming<br />like great stone wheels on sand under a hot sun<br />near a river where reeds sang in the wind<br />the heart produced and gave reward for hard labor.</p>
+            <p>No one knows when it all ended. No one can say<br />if it was the heart that dried up or the heart’s supply.<br />Either way, food of the heart became scarcer and scarcer.<br />People began dying, not of starvation<br />but of a certain facial expression that could only<br />be described as desperation. Now<br />all that are left are the celebrity chefs, last bastion<br />of a once mighty empire of the <a href="sense-of-it.html">heart<br />are reduced to husks</a> blown dry by wind.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="sixteenth-chapel.txt.html"
diff --git a/last-passenger.html b/last-passenger.html
index 51d1a8c..2539dd2 100644
--- a/last-passenger.html
+++ b/last-passenger.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Last passenger | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="last-passenger" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Last passenger</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Memory works strangely, <a href="roughgloves.html">spooling its thread</a><br />over the <a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">nails of events</a> barely related,<br />creating finally some picture, if we’re<br />lucky, of a life—but more likely, it knots<br />itself, catches on a nail or in our throats<br />that gasp, as it binds our necks, for air.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>An example: today marks one hundred years<br />since your namesake, the last living passenger<br />pigeon, died in Cincinnati. It also marks<br />a year since we last spoke. Although around<br />the world, zoos mourn her loss, I’m done<br />with you. I mourn no more your voice, the first<br />sound I heard outside my body that reached<br /><a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">into my throat and set me ringing</a>. But that string—</p>
+            <p>Memory works strangely, <a href="roughgloves.html">spooling its thread</a><br />over the <a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">nails of events</a> barely related,<br />creating finally some picture, if we’re<br />lucky, of a life—but more likely, it knots<br />itself, catches on a nail or in our throats<br />that gasp, as it binds our necks, for air.</p>
-<p>memory that feels sometimes more like a tide<br />has yoked together, bound your voice to that bird,<br />the frozen, stuffed, forgotten pigeon—my heart<br />is too easy, but it must do—to blink, to flex<br />its unused toes, slowly thaw to the wetness<br />of <a href="cold-wind.html">beating wings</a>, fly to me again, and alight,<br />singing full-throated, on my broken shoulder.</p></section>
+            <p>An example: today marks one hundred years<br />since your namesake, the last living passenger<br />pigeon, died in Cincinnati. It also marks<br />a year since we last spoke. Although around<br />the world, zoos mourn her loss, I’m done<br />with you. I mourn no more your voice, the first<br />sound I heard outside my body that reached<br /><a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">into my throat and set me ringing</a>. But that string—</p>
+            <p>memory that feels sometimes more like a tide<br />has yoked together, bound your voice to that bird,<br />the frozen, stuffed, forgotten pigeon—my heart<br />is too easy, but it must do—to blink, to flex<br />its unused toes, slowly thaw to the wetness<br />of <a href="cold-wind.html">beating wings</a>, fly to me again, and alight,<br />singing full-throated, on my broken shoulder.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/leaf.html b/leaf.html
index 05df935..dd16f81 100644
--- a/leaf.html
+++ b/leaf.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Leaf | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="leaf" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Leaf</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He shrugged the wood off his shoulder, letting it fall with a clog onto the earth floor of his Writing Shack. He exhaled looking out of the window. He hoped to see a bird fly by, maybe a blue jay or raven. <a href="last-passenger.html">No bird did</a>. He inhaled. He exhaled again in a way that could <a href="last-bastion.html">only be classified</a> as a sigh. He sat down at his writing desk. He began shuffling through what he’d written, trying to find some sort of pattern.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“<em>Each piece of paper—each leaf—</em>” at this he smiled—“<em>is like a tree in the forest.</em>” He was writing as he thought aloud. “<em>I, as the artist, as the <strong>writer</strong>, must select which to use, chop down those trees, bring them back to my shed and</em>—and—” he frowned as he realized the only end to this <a href="the-night-we-met.html">metaphor was fire</a>. He ran his fingers through his hair in a self-soothing gesture.</p>
+            <p>He shrugged the wood off his shoulder, letting it fall with a clog onto the earth floor of his Writing Shack. He exhaled looking out of the window. He hoped to see a bird fly by, maybe a blue jay or raven. <a href="last-passenger.html">No bird did</a>. He inhaled. He exhaled again in a way that could <a href="last-bastion.html">only be classified</a> as a sigh. He sat down at his writing desk. He began shuffling through what he’d written, trying to find some sort of pattern.</p>
-<p>“I need to build some furniture” he thought.</p></section>
+            <p>“<em>Each piece of paper—each leaf—</em>” at this he smiled—“<em>is like a tree in the forest.</em>” He was writing as he thought aloud. “<em>I, as the artist, as the <strong>writer</strong>, must select which to use, chop down those trees, bring them back to my shed and</em>—and—” he frowned as he realized the only end to this <a href="the-night-we-met.html">metaphor was fire</a>. He ran his fingers through his hair in a self-soothing gesture.</p>
+            <p>“I need to build some furniture” he thought.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="axe.html"
diff --git a/leg.html b/leg.html
index bfb1de5..0e68673 100644
--- a/leg.html
+++ b/leg.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Leg | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="leg" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Leg</h1>
@@ -40,23 +36,25 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>His first chair was a stool. It was an <a href="stump.html">uneven wobbly stool</a> that would not support even forty pounds. “So my first chair is a broken stool” he said after nearly breaking his tailbone on the dirt floor. “Maybe I should start again but this time only with legs.” He began again but this time only with legs. He built <a href="i-think-its-you.html">one leg</a>, which means he cut a straight piece of wood down to four feet in length, whittled the bark off, and sanded it down smooth in what he was now calling his Woodworking Shack. He typed up a note on how to make chair legs.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<blockquote>
+            <p>His first chair was a stool. It was an <a href="stump.html">uneven wobbly stool</a> that would not support even forty pounds. “So my first chair is a broken stool” he said after nearly breaking his tailbone on the dirt floor. “Maybe I should start again but this time only with legs.” He began again but this time only with legs. He built <a href="i-think-its-you.html">one leg</a>, which means he cut a straight piece of wood down to four feet in length, whittled the bark off, and sanded it down smooth in what he was now calling his Woodworking Shack. He typed up a note on how to make chair legs.</p>
-<p>MAKING CHAIR LEGS</p>
+            <blockquote>
-<ol type="1">
+            <p>MAKING CHAIR LEGS</p>
-<li>get longish piece of wood</li>
+            <ol type="1">
-<li>cut it to length (<a href="boar.html">4 feet</a> I’d recommend)</li>
+            <li>get longish piece of wood</li>
-<li>whittle off bark</li>
+            <li>cut it to length (<a href="boar.html">4 feet</a> I’d recommend)</li>
-<li>sand smooth the leg</li>
+            <li>whittle off bark</li>
-</ol>
+            <li>sand smooth the leg</li>
-</blockquote>
+            </ol>
-<p>After he tried remembered tried standing the leg up, failing, and after much thought realizing that the ends needed to be flat, he typed one more line on his notecard:</p>
+            </blockquote>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>After he tried remembered tried standing the leg up, failing, and after much thought realizing that the ends needed to be flat, he typed one more line on his notecard:</p>
-<ol start="5" type="1">
+            <blockquote>
-<li>make ends flat</li>
+            <ol start="5" type="1">
-</ol>
+            <li>make ends flat</li>
-</blockquote>
+            </ol>
-<p>He had no tools with which to flatten the ends of his leg.</p></section>
+            </blockquote>
+            <p>He had no tools with which to flatten the ends of his leg.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="toilet.html"
diff --git a/likingthings.html b/likingthings.html
index f9dcaf5..892f129 100644
--- a/likingthings.html
+++ b/likingthings.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Liking Things | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/hezekiah.css">
-    <script src="./js/hezekiah.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="likingthings" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Liking Things</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>The definition of happiness is <em>doing stuff that you really like</em>. That stuff can be eating soup, going to the bathroom, walking the dog, playing Dungeons and Dragons; whatever keeps your mind off the fact that you’re so goddamn unhappy all the time. That, incidentally, is the definition of like: <em>that feeling you get when you forget how miserable you are for just a little bit</em>. Thus people like doing stuff they like all the time, as often as possible; because if they remember how horrible they really feel at not having a background to put themselves against, they will want to hurt themselves and those around them.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>The funny thing is that something we people really like to do is hurt ourselves and those around us. We do this by thinking other people are more unhappy than we are. We convince themselves that we are truly happy, ecstatic even, while they merely plod around life half-heartedly, or, if they’re lucky, incorrectly. We take it upon ourselves (seeing as we are so happy, and can spare a little bit of happiness) to help them become happy as well. We fail to realize that the people will probably not appreciate our thinking that we’re better than they are somehow, for that is what we do even if we don’t mean it. We forget that we are also unhappy, and that we are just doing things we like in order to cheer ourselves up a little bit, which really means that this cheering is working; but there is such a thing as working too well. So in a sense what I’m doing here is cheering myself up by reminding you that you are unhappy; I’m trying to keep you honest in your unhappiness; and I admit this is usually called a dick move.</p>
+            <p>The definition of happiness is <em>doing stuff that you really like</em>. That stuff can be eating soup, going to the bathroom, walking the dog, playing Dungeons and Dragons; whatever keeps your mind off the fact that you’re so goddamn unhappy all the time. That, incidentally, is the definition of like: <em>that feeling you get when you forget how miserable you are for just a little bit</em>. Thus people like doing stuff they like all the time, as often as possible; because if they remember how horrible they really feel at not having a background to put themselves against, they will want to hurt themselves and those around them.</p>
-<p>In fact, the best way to overcome happy-hungering (this is the term as I dub it) is commit as many dick moves as possible, to keep people remembering that unhappiness abounds. If you see someone smiling like a little dog who knows it’s about to get pet or get a treat or go to the vet to donate doggy sperm, smile back. Grin toothily (a little too toothily for a little too long). Their smile will start to fade if you’re doing it right. Saunter to them, slide as if you’re an Olympic quality ice-skater, as if you’re a really good bowler who knows he’s playing against twelve year olds and’ll win by a hundred. Get really close. Far too close for what most people would call comfort. And remind them of how awful life can be: “I really like your <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">shirt</a>—really only children chained to looms can get that tight of a weave,” you can say, or “You’re not really going to recycle that coffee cup, are you?” They will probably get angry, but that’s what’s supposed to happen. By making dick moves, you can overcome what may be the biggest evil on this earth: Happy-Hungering.</p></section>
+            <p>The funny thing is that something we people really like to do is hurt ourselves and those around us. We do this by thinking other people are more unhappy than we are. We convince themselves that we are truly happy, ecstatic even, while they merely plod around life half-heartedly, or, if they’re lucky, incorrectly. We take it upon ourselves (seeing as we are so happy, and can spare a little bit of happiness) to help them become happy as well. We fail to realize that the people will probably not appreciate our thinking that we’re better than they are somehow, for that is what we do even if we don’t mean it. We forget that we are also unhappy, and that we are just doing things we like in order to cheer ourselves up a little bit, which really means that this cheering is working; but there is such a thing as working too well. So in a sense what I’m doing here is cheering myself up by reminding you that you are unhappy; I’m trying to keep you honest in your unhappiness; and I admit this is usually called a dick move.</p>
+            <p>In fact, the best way to overcome happy-hungering (this is the term as I dub it) is commit as many dick moves as possible, to keep people remembering that unhappiness abounds. If you see someone smiling like a little dog who knows it’s about to get pet or get a treat or go to the vet to donate doggy sperm, smile back. Grin toothily (a little too toothily for a little too long). Their smile will start to fade if you’re doing it right. Saunter to them, slide as if you’re an Olympic quality ice-skater, as if you’re a really good bowler who knows he’s playing against twelve year olds and’ll win by a hundred. Get really close. Far too close for what most people would call comfort. And remind them of how awful life can be: “I really like your <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">shirt</a>—really only children chained to looms can get that tight of a weave,” you can say, or “You’re not really going to recycle that coffee cup, are you?” They will probably get angry, but that’s what’s supposed to happen. By making dick moves, you can overcome what may be the biggest evil on this earth: Happy-Hungering.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="problems.html"
diff --git a/listen.html b/listen.html
index 55882fb..2cd87ed 100644
--- a/listen.html
+++ b/listen.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Listen | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="listen" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Listen</h1>
@@ -40,8 +36,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>If you swallow hard enough<br />you’ll <a href="serengeti.html">feel the stone</a><br />the one we all have waiting</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Once I <a href="plant.html">found the stone</a> in<br />the sea it kissed me as<br /><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">the sea pawed at my back</a></p></section>
+            <p>If you swallow hard enough<br />you’ll <a href="serengeti.html">feel the stone</a><br />the one we all have waiting</p>
+            <p>Once I <a href="plant.html">found the stone</a> in<br />the sea it kissed me as<br /><a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">the sea pawed at my back</a></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/love-as-god.html b/love-as-god.html
index 93881ae..61b9553 100644
--- a/love-as-god.html
+++ b/love-as-god.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Love as God | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="love-as-god" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Love as God</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+John+4%3A8&amp;version=NIV">God is love</a>, they say, but there <a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">is</a><br />no god. Therefore, how can there be love?<br />And if there is no love, how can there be God?<br />There are things in life, I suppose,<br />that are simply unanswerable mysteries<br />of existence. Maybe this God and love are one.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Maybe there are many loves, instead of one.<br />The difference between <a href="largest-asteroid.html">what isn’t</a> and what is<br />could merely be one of scope. The mystery<br />is how we speak only of one love—<br />to act as though we know we are supposed<br />to love only one other, or that one other and God.</p>
+            <p><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+John+4%3A8&amp;version=NIV">God is love</a>, they say, but there <a href="i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html">is</a><br />no god. Therefore, how can there be love?<br />And if there is no love, how can there be God?<br />There are things in life, I suppose,<br />that are simply unanswerable mysteries<br />of existence. Maybe this God and love are one.</p>
-<p>But supposing that one other is God?<br />What then? Is the God-lover to walk alone,<br />supported by God only when He feels He is supposed<br />to support her? What kind of love is<br />this? I would argue in fact this isn’t love,<br />this <a href="http://www.footprints-inthe-sand.com/index.php?page=Poem/Poem.php">one-set-of-footprints-in-the-sand</a> mystery.</p>
+            <p>Maybe there are many loves, instead of one.<br />The difference between <a href="largest-asteroid.html">what isn’t</a> and what is<br />could merely be one of scope. The mystery<br />is how we speak only of one love—<br />to act as though we know we are supposed<br />to love only one other, or that one other and God.</p>
-<p>How to define two loves as one is the mystery.<br />It’s obvious to many there is a thing called God,<br />and just as obvious that there is one called love.<br />Maybe we fool ourselves, we who can’t be alone;<br />maybe we don’t know what either God or love is.<br />Maybe, and perhaps; but I for one propose</p>
+            <p>But supposing that one other is God?<br />What then? Is the God-lover to walk alone,<br />supported by God only when He feels He is supposed<br />to support her? What kind of love is<br />this? I would argue in fact this isn’t love,<br />this <a href="http://www.footprints-inthe-sand.com/index.php?page=Poem/Poem.php">one-set-of-footprints-in-the-sand</a> mystery.</p>
-<p>that we as only humans are not supposed<br />to know or understand capital-L Life, that mystery.<br />Isn’t it enough to know that God is<br />love, and love is God,<br />no matter which one<br />does or does not exist? What is life, if no love,</p>
+            <p>How to define two loves as one is the mystery.<br />It’s obvious to many there is a thing called God,<br />and just as obvious that there is one called love.<br />Maybe we fool ourselves, we who can’t be alone;<br />maybe we don’t know what either God or love is.<br />Maybe, and perhaps; but I for one propose</p>
-<p>if no God? <a href="cereal.html">Maybe</a> this saying, “God is love,”<br />is less a definition of God what what love is supposed<br />to be. Of these two terms, <a href="death-zone.html">maybe2</a> the one<br />we should capitalize is Love, that great mystery<br />of chemistry and longing. Maybe “Love is god”<br />is a more fitting <a href="epigraph.html">epigraph</a> for what life is</p>
+            <p>that we as only humans are not supposed<br />to know or understand capital-L Life, that mystery.<br />Isn’t it enough to know that God is<br />love, and love is God,<br />no matter which one<br />does or does not exist? What is life, if no love,</p>
-<p><a href="tapestry.html">made of:</a> Love, that most delicate, most misty<br /> of all emotions, is supposed to be their god,<br />as the one that binds us, that was, that will be, that is.</p></section>
+            <p>if no God? <a href="cereal.html">Maybe</a> this saying, “God is love,”<br />is less a definition of God what what love is supposed<br />to be. Of these two terms, <a href="death-zone.html">maybe2</a> the one<br />we should capitalize is Love, that great mystery<br />of chemistry and longing. Maybe “Love is god”<br />is a more fitting <a href="epigraph.html">epigraph</a> for what life is</p>
+            <p><a href="tapestry.html">made of:</a> Love, that most delicate, most misty<br /> of all emotions, is supposed to be their god,<br />as the one that binds us, that was, that will be, that is.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="initial-conditions.html"
diff --git a/lovesong.html b/lovesong.html
index 774f9cf..98e8aa6 100644
--- a/lovesong.html
+++ b/lovesong.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Love Song | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="lovesong" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Love Song</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Walking along in the dark is a good way to begin a song. Walking home in the dark after a long day chasing criminals is another. Running away from an imagined evil is no way to begin a story.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>I am telling you this because you wanted to know what it’s like to tell something so beautiful everyone will cry. I am telling you because I want you to know what it is to keep everything inside of you. I am telling you.</p>
+            <p>Walking along in the dark is a good way to begin a song. Walking home in the dark after a long day chasing criminals is another. Running away from an imagined evil is no way to begin a story.</p>
-<p>Can you see? Can you see into me and reach in your hand and pull me inside out, like an <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">old shirt</a>? Will you wear me until I unravel on your shoulders, will you cut me apart and use my skin to clean up the cola you spill on the floor when you’re drunk?</p>
+            <p>I am telling you this because you wanted to know what it’s like to tell something so beautiful everyone will cry. I am telling you because I want you to know what it is to keep everything inside of you. I am telling you.</p>
-<p>I want you to know that I want you to know. Do you want me? To know is to know. I, you want we. We want. That is why we’re here. To want is to be is to want and I want you. Do you also? Check yes or no.</p>
+            <p>Can you see? Can you see into me and reach in your hand and pull me inside out, like an <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">old shirt</a>? Will you wear me until I unravel on your shoulders, will you cut me apart and use my skin to clean up the cola you spill on the floor when you’re drunk?</p>
-<p>There is a way to end every story, <a href="swansong.html">every song</a>. Every criminal must be caught. Even those who cry dry their tears. I cannot tell you all I want because I want to tell you everything. There is no art because there is no mirror big enough. We wake up every day. Sometimes we sleep.</p></section>
+            <p>I want you to know that I want you to know. Do you want me? To know is to know. I, you want we. We want. That is why we’re here. To want is to be is to want and I want you. Do you also? Check yes or no.</p>
+            <p>There is a way to end every story, <a href="swansong.html">every song</a>. Every criminal must be caught. Even those who cry dry their tears. I cannot tell you all I want because I want to tell you everything. There is no art because there is no mirror big enough. We wake up every day. Sometimes we sleep.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="howithappened.html"
diff --git a/lua/river.lua b/lua/river.lua
index d060ba9..cd867af 100644
--- a/lua/river.lua
+++ b/lua/river.lua

@@ -4,6 +4,8 @@
 -- vim: fdm=marker
 -- invoke with: pandoc -t river.lua
+os.setlocale("en_US.UTF-8")
 local function flow(s)
    return s:gsub("%s+", "\n")
 end
@@ -33,7 +35,7 @@ local function nude(s)
    -- Remove dashes (not hyphens)
    s = s:gsub('%-%-+', ' ')
    s = s:gsub('%-%s', ' ')
-    -- Remove general punctuation
+    -- Remove everything that is not letters or numbers
    s = s:gsub('[%.!%?:;,%[%]%(%)<>]', ' ')
    -- Remove extra spaces
    s = s:gsub('%s+', ' ')
diff --git a/man.html b/man.html
index ce91fc3..542ba3e 100644
--- a/man.html
+++ b/man.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Man | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="man" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Man</h1>
@@ -48,11 +44,13 @@
                </a>
                        </div>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em>THIS MAN REFUSED TO OPEN HIS EYES</em></p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Paul read this on an old mugshot in the library. He had taken the <a href="boy_bus.html">bus</a> into town to check out a few books on woodworking and got distracted by the True Crime section. He found this mugshot in a book titled <em>Crooks like Us</em> that was published in Sydney. He liked how cities were named after women, or how women were named after cities, whichever was true.</p>
+            <p><em>THIS MAN REFUSED TO OPEN HIS EYES</em></p>
-<p>The man in the picture’s eyes were tightly shut, as though he’d just come into the brightness of day after being dark inside for a long time. His head was tilted up and slightly to the right. He was wearing a short light tie with hash marks, and a pinstripe suit. Paul wished the <a href="about-the-author.html">photograph</a> was in color. He was standing in front of a plain brown wall covered in fabric.</p>
+            <p>Paul read this on an old mugshot in the library. He had taken the <a href="boy_bus.html">bus</a> into town to check out a few books on woodworking and got distracted by the True Crime section. He found this mugshot in a book titled <em>Crooks like Us</em> that was published in Sydney. He liked how cities were named after women, or how women were named after cities, whichever was true.</p>
-<p>The man’s eyes were not so tightly shut as Paul first thought. His eyebrows lifted away from the eyes, giving the man a bemused look. His mouth was slightly opened in what seemed to Paul like a grin. This was accentuated by the man’s ears, which were large. Paul wasn’t sure why the ears made the man look happier. He wondered what crime he had committed.</p>
+            <p>The man in the picture’s eyes were tightly shut, as though he’d just come into the brightness of day after being dark inside for a long time. His head was tilted up and slightly to the right. He was wearing a short light tie with hash marks, and a pinstripe suit. Paul wished the <a href="about-the-author.html">photograph</a> was in color. He was standing in front of a plain brown wall covered in fabric.</p>
-<p>Above the man’s head was written <a href="http://emiliaphillips.com/books/signaletics/"><em>T. BEDE.22.11.28 / 203 A</em>.</a> <em>THIS MAN REFUSED TO OPEN HIS EYES</em> was written over his suit, directly below his ribcage.</p></section>
+            <p>The man’s eyes were not so tightly shut as Paul first thought. His eyebrows lifted away from the eyes, giving the man a bemused look. His mouth was slightly opened in what seemed to Paul like a grin. This was accentuated by the man’s ears, which were large. Paul wasn’t sure why the ears made the man look happier. He wondered what crime he had committed.</p>
+            <p>Above the man’s head was written <a href="http://emiliaphillips.com/books/signaletics/"><em>T. BEDE.22.11.28 / 203 A</em>.</a> <em>THIS MAN REFUSED TO OPEN HIS EYES</em> was written over his suit, directly below his ribcage.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="cereal.html"
diff --git a/manifesto_poetics.html b/manifesto_poetics.html
index 7d61c0d..28d45ed 100644
--- a/manifesto_poetics.html
+++ b/manifesto_poetics.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Manifesto of poetics | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="manifesto_poetics" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Manifesto of poetics</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>What is a poem? I think it was Yeats that called a poem “the best words in the best order,” and that isn’t an inaccurate description, but I don’t think it captures all of what a poem is. <a href="prelude.html">Let me start</a> with communication.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Communication is a transaction, an exchange between two people or entities, in which one (the Speaker/Writer/Communicator) gives the other (the Reader/Listener/Consumer) a<br />set of ideas /<br />a wireframe organization of a concept /<br />a set of reasons/instructions for action. In many kinds of communication, for example speeches, reports, or advertisements, the kind of ideas transacted are generally factual/logical/brain-based in nature. In art, these ideas are emotional/heart-based. In short, Art is to Emotion as an <a href="README.html#fn1">Article</a> is to Information. I think art should strive to transmit the emotion the author feels as efficiently as possible to the reader of that art.</p>
+            <p>What is a poem? I think it was Yeats that called a poem “the best words in the best order,” and that isn’t an inaccurate description, but I don’t think it captures all of what a poem is. <a href="prelude.html">Let me start</a> with communication.</p>
-<p>In order to do this, multiple notation systems have been devised. Music is the most notable example that comes to mind, as it has the most rigid style, but grammar, as used self-consciously in writing, would be another example. Poetry has only a very loose set of rules and assumptions that allow it a sort of notational language, and this is complicated by the fact that when writing poetry, the author writes for a different medium: poetry is meant to be performed aloud. This makes the notation system even more important, but again, it’s hard to come up with a system that will be read mostly the same by most people.</p>
+            <p>Communication is a transaction, an exchange between two people or entities, in which one (the Speaker/Writer/Communicator) gives the other (the Reader/Listener/Consumer) a<br />set of ideas /<br />a wireframe organization of a concept /<br />a set of reasons/instructions for action. In many kinds of communication, for example speeches, reports, or advertisements, the kind of ideas transacted are generally factual/logical/brain-based in nature. In art, these ideas are emotional/heart-based. In short, Art is to Emotion as an <a href="README.html#fn1">Article</a> is to Information. I think art should strive to transmit the emotion the author feels as efficiently as possible to the reader of that art.</p>
-<p>What I’ve been trying to do since I began writing is develop a personal notation system, or what I think most would refer to as my “voice” as a poet/writer (I personally don’t like the word “poet,” as it sounds pretentious to me; I’m aware I should get over this).</p>
+            <p>In order to do this, multiple notation systems have been devised. Music is the most notable example that comes to mind, as it has the most rigid style, but grammar, as used self-consciously in writing, would be another example. Poetry has only a very loose set of rules and assumptions that allow it a sort of notational language, and this is complicated by the fact that when writing poetry, the author writes for a different medium: poetry is meant to be performed aloud. This makes the notation system even more important, but again, it’s hard to come up with a system that will be read mostly the same by most people.</p>
-<p>However, there were some places that still needed improving from my draft manuscript: most notably, my prose in “Rip Tide of Memory” (now only “Rip Tide”) and “AMBER Alert.” I rewrote each to tighten their syntactic and idea rhythm, to make them move more lightly and gracefully.</p>
+            <p>What I’ve been trying to do since I began writing is develop a personal notation system, or what I think most would refer to as my “voice” as a poet/writer (I personally don’t like the word “poet,” as it sounds pretentious to me; I’m aware I should get over this).</p>
-<p>The most notable difference in my series is the reordering of poems within it. I think that in my first draft, I spent so much time on getting my individual poems tight and polished that I threw them together somewhat haphazardly, using a loose thematic correspondence with the fake “Table of contents.” With the new order, I hope this has been fixed: the piece consists of six sections, each with three poems (A new one, “Everything stays the same,” makes the totals correct). Each section has a thematic/emotional/personal element that ties the sections together. They are ordered by the order in which I wrote the sestinas at the beginning of each section, which works out to make the series move from identity to memory to a feeling of universal justice, and from there to a discussion of death and (something like) love that culminates in an exploration of the nature of time and cosmology. The piece is bookended by the fake “Table of contents” (provided at the end as an ironic commentary on the rest of the text) and an “About the author” section. I think it works better this way, and I think the “About the author” at the beginning serves as a fair prelude poem to the piece.</p>
+            <p>However, there were some places that still needed improving from my draft manuscript: most notably, my prose in “Rip Tide of Memory” (now only “Rip Tide”) and “AMBER Alert.” I rewrote each to tighten their syntactic and idea rhythm, to make them move more lightly and gracefully.</p>
-<p>I’m excited to be a writer like I haven’t been before.</p></section>
+            <p>The most notable difference in my series is the reordering of poems within it. I think that in my first draft, I spent so much time on getting my individual poems tight and polished that I threw them together somewhat haphazardly, using a loose thematic correspondence with the fake “Table of contents.” With the new order, I hope this has been fixed: the piece consists of six sections, each with three poems (A new one, “Everything stays the same,” makes the totals correct). Each section has a thematic/emotional/personal element that ties the sections together. They are ordered by the order in which I wrote the sestinas at the beginning of each section, which works out to make the series move from identity to memory to a feeling of universal justice, and from there to a discussion of death and (something like) love that culminates in an exploration of the nature of time and cosmology. The piece is bookended by the fake “Table of contents” (provided at the end as an ironic commentary on the rest of the text) and an “About the author” section. I think it works better this way, and I think the “About the author” at the beginning serves as a fair prelude poem to the piece.</p>
+            <p>I’m excited to be a writer like I haven’t been before.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/moon-drowning.html b/moon-drowning.html
index 7035a66..b921302 100644
--- a/moon-drowning.html
+++ b/moon-drowning.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The Moon is drowning | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="moon-drowning" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The Moon is drowning</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p><a href="moongone.html">The moon is drowning</a> the stars it pushes them<br />under into the darkness they cannot breathe<br />they are flailing the moon boasts to my shadow<br />how powerful is the moon how great its light</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>My shadow nods and calls the moon father though<br />it acknowledges also the existence of others<br />headlights are like little moons father my shadow says<br />they pass like waves in a dark ocean</p>
+            <p><a href="moongone.html">The moon is drowning</a> the stars it pushes them<br />under into the darkness they cannot breathe<br />they are flailing the moon boasts to my shadow<br />how powerful is the moon how great its light</p>
-<p>Father moon becomes angry and threatens<br />I can maroon you shadow I can trap you in darkness<br />your strength comes from my own the little moons<br />are fleeting like foam on a darkened sea</p>
+            <p>My shadow nods and calls the moon father though<br />it acknowledges also the existence of others<br />headlights are like little moons father my shadow says<br />they pass like waves in a dark ocean</p>
-<p>My shadow fears the night as it fears death<br />but it remembers the moon’s strength is from another<br />my shadow wants the headlights like an ocean<br />might want the moon as a seducer as a lover</p></section>
+            <p>Father moon becomes angry and threatens<br />I can maroon you shadow I can trap you in darkness<br />your strength comes from my own the little moons<br />are fleeting like foam on a darkened sea</p>
+            <p>My shadow fears the night as it fears death<br />but it remembers the moon’s strength is from another<br />my shadow wants the headlights like an ocean<br />might want the moon as a seducer as a lover</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="poetry-time.html"
diff --git a/moongone.html b/moongone.html
index 95ad098..e6a4468 100644
--- a/moongone.html
+++ b/moongone.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The moon is gone and in its place a mirror | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="moongone" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The moon is gone and in its place a mirror</h1>
@@ -48,7 +44,9 @@
                </a>
                        </div>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>The moon is gone and in its place a mirror. Looking at the night sky now yields nothing but the viewer’s own face as viewed from a million miles, surrounded by the landscape he is only vaguely aware of being surrounded by. He believes that he is <a href="apollo11.html">alone</a>, surrounded by desert and mountain, but behind him—he now sees it—someone is sneaking up on him. He spins around fast, but no one is there on <a href="serengeti.html">Earth</a>. He looks back up and they are yet closer in the night sky. Again he looks over his shoulder but there is nothing, not even a desert mouse. As he looks up again he realizes it’s a cloud above him, which due to optics has looked like someone else. The cloud blocks out the moon which is now a mirror, and the viewer is completely alone.</p></section>
+        <section class="content prose">
+            <p>The moon is gone and in its place a mirror. Looking at the night sky now yields nothing but the viewer’s own face as viewed from a million miles, surrounded by the landscape he is only vaguely aware of being surrounded by. He believes that he is <a href="apollo11.html">alone</a>, surrounded by desert and mountain, but behind him—he now sees it—someone is sneaking up on him. He spins around fast, but no one is there on <a href="serengeti.html">Earth</a>. He looks back up and they are yet closer in the night sky. Again he looks over his shoulder but there is nothing, not even a desert mouse. As he looks up again he realizes it’s a cloud above him, which due to optics has looked like someone else. The cloud blocks out the moon which is now a mirror, and the viewer is completely alone.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="ronaldmcdonald.html"
diff --git a/mountain.html b/mountain.html
index a98fc32..4745198 100644
--- a/mountain.html
+++ b/mountain.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The mountain | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="mountain" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The mountain</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>The other side of this mountain<br />is not the mountain. This side<br />is honey-golden, sticky-sweet,<br />full of phone conversations with mother.<br />The other side is a bell,<br />ringing in the church-steeple<br />the day mother died.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>The other side of the mountain<br /><a href="apollo11.html">is not a mountain. It is a dark</a><br />valley crossed by a river.<br />There is a ferry at the bottom.</p>
+            <p>The other side of this mountain<br />is not the mountain. This side<br />is honey-golden, sticky-sweet,<br />full of phone conversations with mother.<br />The other side is a bell,<br />ringing in the church-steeple<br />the day mother died.</p>
-<p>This mountain is not a mountain.<br />I walked to the top, but it turned<br />and was only a shelf halfway up.<br />I felt like an unused Bible<br />sitting on a <a href="and.html">dusty pew</a>.</p>
+            <p>The other side of the mountain<br /><a href="apollo11.html">is not a mountain. It is a dark</a><br />valley crossed by a river.<br />There is a ferry at the bottom.</p>
-<p>A hawk soars over the mountain.<br />She is looking for home.</p></section>
+            <p>This mountain is not a mountain.<br />I walked to the top, but it turned<br />and was only a shelf halfway up.<br />I felt like an unused Bible<br />sitting on a <a href="and.html">dusty pew</a>.</p>
+            <p>A hawk soars over the mountain.<br />She is looking for home.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="moonegone.html"
diff --git a/movingsideways.html b/movingsideways.html
index 19da15c..d6c4de7 100644
--- a/movingsideways.html
+++ b/movingsideways.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Moving Sideways | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/hezekiah.css">
-    <script src="./js/hezekiah.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="movingsideways" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Moving Sideways</h1>
@@ -40,17 +36,19 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>A dog moving sideways is sick; a man moving sideways is drunk. Thus if you want to be mindful of the movings of the universe sideways, become either drunk or sick. By doing this you remove yourself from the equation, and are able to observe, without being observed, the universe as it dances sideways drunkenly.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Shit wait. The problem is not that by observing you are observed (although quantum mechanics may disagree<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a>), because obviously dogs don’t know we’re observing them when we watch them through cameras in their little yard while they play and eat and poop—who poops knowingly on camera? The problem is <em>the actual act of observing that distorts the world into what we want it to be</em>.</p>
+            <p>A dog moving sideways is sick; a man moving sideways is drunk. Thus if you want to be mindful of the movings of the universe sideways, become either drunk or sick. By doing this you remove yourself from the equation, and are able to observe, without being observed, the universe as it dances sideways drunkenly.</p>
-<p>What I want to know is this: Why is this necessarily a problem? The dog is made, by mankind, to frolic and poop and sniff and growl and dig. Why cannot the man be made to observe the world incorrectly around him, and worry about it? Men have always wandered about the earth; does it not make sense that also they should wonder in their minds what makes it all work?<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a> In fact this is the very center of the creative being: the ability to move sideways, to dance with reality and judge it as it judges you, much like teenagers at the junior prom.</p>
+            <p>Shit wait. The problem is not that by observing you are observed (although quantum mechanics may disagree<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a>), because obviously dogs don’t know we’re observing them when we watch them through cameras in their little yard while they play and eat and poop—who poops knowingly on camera? The problem is <em>the actual act of observing that distorts the world into what we want it to be</em>.</p>
-<p>Of course, reality doesn’t judge us back. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t! If you think it’s judging you, then <em>observe in your surroundings your own insecurities</em>. It is obvious that this way of doing things is far from vogue; usually projecting <a href="telemarketer.html">inner pain</a> onto the outer world is classified as pathology. However, this is because it is assumed that the outer world is <em>on its own terms</em>, which it obviously isn’t, as far as we know. It follows that as <a href="philosophy.html">there is no backdrop</a> against which to judge our quirks, the quirks must not exist. Thus all is right with the world.</p>
+            <p>What I want to know is this: Why is this necessarily a problem? The dog is made, by mankind, to frolic and poop and sniff and growl and dig. Why cannot the man be made to observe the world incorrectly around him, and worry about it? Men have always wandered about the earth; does it not make sense that also they should wonder in their minds what makes it all work?<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a> In fact this is the very center of the creative being: the ability to move sideways, to dance with reality and judge it as it judges you, much like teenagers at the junior prom.</p>
-<section class="footnotes">
+            <p>Of course, reality doesn’t judge us back. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t! If you think it’s judging you, then <em>observe in your surroundings your own insecurities</em>. It is obvious that this way of doing things is far from vogue; usually projecting <a href="telemarketer.html">inner pain</a> onto the outer world is classified as pathology. However, this is because it is assumed that the outer world is <em>on its own terms</em>, which it obviously isn’t, as far as we know. It follows that as <a href="philosophy.html">there is no backdrop</a> against which to judge our quirks, the quirks must not exist. Thus all is right with the world.</p>
-<hr />
+            <section class="footnotes">
-<ol>
+            <hr />
-<li id="fn1"><p>Quantum mechanics, as is well known, are the most hornery and least agreeable of all mechanics. The cost to get one quantum serviced is usually at least eight times more expensive than the cost of an average automobile tune-up, for reasons not clearly known. The quantum mechanics themselves claim it’s the smallness of their work that justifies the price, but it doesn’t really look like they’re doing anything, and besides, my quantum always seems to break again within six months—maybe I’m just driving it too hard.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
+            <ol>
-<li id="fn2"><p>I attempted to strike this terrible pun from the account, but Hezekiah demanded I keep it if he were to continue the relation of his prophecy-slash-advice column.<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn1"><p>Quantum mechanics, as is well known, are the most hornery and least agreeable of all mechanics. The cost to get one quantum serviced is usually at least eight times more expensive than the cost of an average automobile tune-up, for reasons not clearly known. The quantum mechanics themselves claim it’s the smallness of their work that justifies the price, but it doesn’t really look like they’re doing anything, and besides, my quantum always seems to break again within six months—maybe I’m just driving it too hard.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
-</ol>
+            <li id="fn2"><p>I attempted to strike this terrible pun from the account, but Hezekiah demanded I keep it if he were to continue the relation of his prophecy-slash-advice column.<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
-</section></section>
+            </ol>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="proverbs.html"
diff --git a/music-433.html b/music-433.html
index b7bd8c1..55e4c1d 100644
--- a/music-433.html
+++ b/music-433.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Something | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="music-433" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Something</h1>
@@ -42,12 +38,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Silence lies underneath us all in the same way<br /><a href="http://members.authorsguild.net/svobodni/resonance_80307.htm" title="Personals">the Nile has a river underneath ten times as large</a><br />(although this is an urban legend, apparently).</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>So underneath <a href="phone.html">truth</a> or legend, flowing by<br />the feel of their own <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">silence</a>, move the stars:<br />silence lies underneath us all in the same way.</p>
+            <p>Silence lies underneath us all in the same way<br /><a href="http://members.authorsguild.net/svobodni/resonance_80307.htm" title="Personals">the Nile has a river underneath ten times as large</a><br />(although this is an urban legend, apparently).</p>
-<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&amp;v=zY7UK-6aaNA#t=39">John Cage</a>, I think, understood this: the way<br />that, in a silent room, one still hears the nerves<br />(although this is an urban legend, apparently),</p>
+            <p>So underneath <a href="phone.html">truth</a> or legend, flowing by<br />the feel of their own <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">silence</a>, move the stars:<br />silence lies underneath us all in the same way.</p>
-<p>or the heart, which I find more easily<br />believable: there simply is no way that, by and large,<br />silence lies underneath us all in the same way.</p>
+            <p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&amp;v=zY7UK-6aaNA#t=39">John Cage</a>, I think, understood this: the way<br />that, in a silent room, one still hears the nerves<br />(although this is an urban legend, apparently),</p>
-<p>There must be different silences, because we<br />have different <a href="swansong.html">songs</a> to drown them out, different gods<br />(although these are urban legends, apparently).</p>
+            <p>or the heart, which I find more easily<br />believable: there simply is no way that, by and large,<br />silence lies underneath us all in the same way.</p>
-<p>But is not all <a href="swansong-alt.html">sound one sound</a>? You and I<br />are two faces to the same head, the same body.<br />Silence lies underneath us all in the same way—<br />although this is an urban legend, apparently.</p></section>
+            <p>There must be different silences, because we<br />have different <a href="swansong.html">songs</a> to drown them out, different gods<br />(although these are urban legends, apparently).</p>
+            <p>But is not all <a href="swansong-alt.html">sound one sound</a>? You and I<br />are two faces to the same head, the same body.<br />Silence lies underneath us all in the same way—<br />although this is an urban legend, apparently.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="moon-drowning.html"
diff --git a/no-nothing.html b/no-nothing.html
index ac71b0a..dea7c7b 100644
--- a/no-nothing.html
+++ b/no-nothing.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>No nothing | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="no-nothing" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">No nothing</h1>
@@ -40,8 +36,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>While <a href="father.html">swimming in the river</a><br />I saw <a href="music-433.html">underneath it a river</a><br />of stars. Only there was no<br />river: it was noon. You can<br />say the sun is a river; you<br />can argue the stars back it<br />like <a href="lovessong.html">shirts behind a closet</a><br />door; you can say <a href="big-dipper.html">the earth</a><br />holds us up with its weight<br />or that it means well or it<br />means anything.<br />                There is no<br />closet, <a href="amber-alert.html">nor door</a>; there are<br />no shirts hanging anywhere.<br />There is no false wall that<br />leads deep into the earth’s<br />bowels, <a href="real-writer.html">growing warmer</a> with<br />each step. Warmth as a con-<br />cept has ceased to make any<br />sense. In contraposition to<br />cold, it might, but cold as<br />well <a href="i-think-its-you.html">stepped out</a> last night<br />and hasn’t returned.<br />                     Last I<br />heard, it went out swimming<br />and <a href="in-bed.html">might’ve drowned</a>. Trees<br />were the pallbearers at the<br />funeral, the train was long<br />and wailful, there was much<br /><a href="http://biblehub.com/luke/13-28.htm">wailing and gnashing</a> of all<br />teeth–though there were no<br />teeth, no train, no funeral<br />or prayer or trees at all–<br />nor a <a href="howtoread.html">river underneath</a> any-<br />thing. There was nothing to<br />be underneath anymore.<br />                       Look<br />around, and tell me you see<br />something. Look around, and<br />tell me something that I do<br />not know. I know, more than<br />anything, that the world is<br />always ending. Behind that,<br />there is nothing, save that<br />there is no nothing either.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Nothing somehow still turns<br />and flows past us, past all<br />time and beyond it, a river<br />returning, to its forgotten<br />origins deep within itself.</p></section>
+            <p>While <a href="father.html">swimming in the river</a><br />I saw <a href="music-433.html">underneath it a river</a><br />of stars. Only there was no<br />river: it was noon. You can<br />say the sun is a river; you<br />can argue the stars back it<br />like <a href="lovessong.html">shirts behind a closet</a><br />door; you can say <a href="big-dipper.html">the earth</a><br />holds us up with its weight<br />or that it means well or it<br />means anything.<br />                There is no<br />closet, <a href="amber-alert.html">nor door</a>; there are<br />no shirts hanging anywhere.<br />There is no false wall that<br />leads deep into the earth’s<br />bowels, <a href="real-writer.html">growing warmer</a> with<br />each step. Warmth as a con-<br />cept has ceased to make any<br />sense. In contraposition to<br />cold, it might, but cold as<br />well <a href="i-think-its-you.html">stepped out</a> last night<br />and hasn’t returned.<br />                     Last I<br />heard, it went out swimming<br />and <a href="in-bed.html">might’ve drowned</a>. Trees<br />were the pallbearers at the<br />funeral, the train was long<br />and wailful, there was much<br /><a href="http://biblehub.com/luke/13-28.htm">wailing and gnashing</a> of all<br />teeth–though there were no<br />teeth, no train, no funeral<br />or prayer or trees at all–<br />nor a <a href="howtoread.html">river underneath</a> any-<br />thing. There was nothing to<br />be underneath anymore.<br />                       Look<br />around, and tell me you see<br />something. Look around, and<br />tell me something that I do<br />not know. I know, more than<br />anything, that the world is<br />always ending. Behind that,<br />there is nothing, save that<br />there is no nothing either.</p>
+            <p>Nothing somehow still turns<br />and flows past us, past all<br />time and beyond it, a river<br />returning, to its forgotten<br />origins deep within itself.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/notes.html b/notes.html
index c03f74e..dc3a23d 100644
--- a/notes.html
+++ b/notes.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Notes | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="notes" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Notes</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Paul began typing on notecards. Somehow this felt right to his sensibilities. It was difficult to get the little cards into the typewriter. It was a pain to readjust the typewriter for regular paper when he wasn’t writing. He started typing everything on those little notecards: grocery lists, letters to his grandmother, <a href="telemarketer.html">even reports for work</a> (which is what got him in trouble).</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>But this was all later. For now he was writing his ideas, “notes” he now called them, something for him to combine later into something. He didn’t like to think about it. On this particular <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">cold winter morning</a>, he wrote</p>
+            <p>Paul began typing on notecards. Somehow this felt right to his sensibilities. It was difficult to get the little cards into the typewriter. It was a pain to readjust the typewriter for regular paper when he wasn’t writing. He started typing everything on those little notecards: grocery lists, letters to his grandmother, <a href="telemarketer.html">even reports for work</a> (which is what got him in trouble).</p>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>But this was all later. For now he was writing his ideas, “notes” he now called them, something for him to combine later into something. He didn’t like to think about it. On this particular <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">cold winter morning</a>, he wrote</p>
-<p>Woke up from a <a href="in-bed.html">dream</a> I was famous. One of the more famous people in fact. I had written something everyone could relate to and at the same time proved my parents wrong. Because I made a lot of money. Or not a lot, but enough and more than they thought I would. It was a good day. Woke up this morning and I was still cold. <a href="something-simple.html">Still Paul.</a> Still not good at furniture.</p>
+            <blockquote>
-</blockquote></section>
+            <p>Woke up from a <a href="in-bed.html">dream</a> I was famous. One of the more famous people in fact. I had written something everyone could relate to and at the same time proved my parents wrong. Because I made a lot of money. Or not a lot, but enough and more than they thought I would. It was a good day. Woke up this morning and I was still cold. <a href="something-simple.html">Still Paul.</a> Still not good at furniture.</p>
+            </blockquote>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="writing.html"
diff --git a/nothing-is-ever-over.html b/nothing-is-ever-over.html
index 88c2108..e3b617e 100644
--- a/nothing-is-ever-over.html
+++ b/nothing-is-ever-over.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Nothing is ever over | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="nothing-is-ever-over" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Nothing is ever over</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p><a href="no-nothing.html">Nothing is ever over</a>; nothing<br />is ever even begun. The foundation<br />hasn’t been laid; how can we hope<br />to put in the plumbing? The bed<br />is unmade, not even made; the wood<br /><a href="axe.html">hasn’t been cleft from the tree</a>;<br />the seed hasn’t been cast<br />out of water and growth and sun,<br />which itself hasn’t started shining.<br />The cock has never stopped crowing<br />because he never started. Peter<br /><a href="spittle.html">betrays us again</a> and again with<br />silence. Christ wakes up at night,<br /><a href="in-bed.html">choking from a bad dream</a>, wrists<br />aching from a dreamt, torturous pain.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p><a href="no-nothing.html">Nothing is ever over</a>; nothing<br />is ever even begun. The foundation<br />hasn’t been laid; how can we hope<br />to put in the plumbing? The bed<br />is unmade, not even made; the wood<br /><a href="axe.html">hasn’t been cleft from the tree</a>;<br />the seed hasn’t been cast<br />out of water and growth and sun,<br />which itself hasn’t started shining.<br />The cock has never stopped crowing<br />because he never started. Peter<br /><a href="spittle.html">betrays us again</a> and again with<br />silence. Christ wakes up at night,<br /><a href="in-bed.html">choking from a bad dream</a>, wrists<br />aching from a dreamt, torturous pain.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/on-genre-dimension.html b/on-genre-dimension.html
index 2639e4d..19cca4d 100644
--- a/on-genre-dimension.html
+++ b/on-genre-dimension.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>On genre and the dimensionality of poetry | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="on-genre-dimension" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">On genre and the dimensionality of poetry</h1>
@@ -40,23 +36,25 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>How does one describe a poem?</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>A genre is a set of creative outputs that fit a given set of criteria. Genres are useful as a sort of shorthand when describing a thing of art: instead of noting, for example, all of the objects depicted in a still-life that aren’t people or land-features, we call it a still-life and get on to describing how the objects interrelate to each other on the canvas. If you ask me what kind of painting I’m working on, and I say, “a still-life,” you have an expectation of certain elements the painting will contain. If you happen to be an agent and try to sell the painting later, you’ll say to your prospective buyers, “It’s a still-life,” and whether the buyer is over the phone or standing in the gallery, they’ll know whether they’ll like it or not based on whether they like still-lifes. In the same way, they can call you up and ask if you have any still-lifes for sale right now, and get a simple yes-or-no answer for it. This is the first kind of genre, and it applies well within separate types of fundamentally-different media, such as painting, sculpture, film, or the written word.</p>
+            <p>How does one describe a poem?</p>
-<p>A poem, obviously, is in this last category, and for some reason its designation is hairier than others’. People refer to all sorts of art, or even dispassionate events, as poetry; dancing is called “poetry in motion,” for example. I think the confusion is caused in part by the nature of writing as a medium, namely in that it captures thoughts more clearly and communicably than other art forms. While a picture can be “worth a thousand words,” as the old cliché goes, when those words are actually written out they can contain shades of meaning impossible to capture in the picture itself, at least as quickly as they can be absorbed in writing. It seems as though writing is akin to the fundamental nature of thought, or at least of spoken language, which our thought is steeped in.</p>
+            <p>A genre is a set of creative outputs that fit a given set of criteria. Genres are useful as a sort of shorthand when describing a thing of art: instead of noting, for example, all of the objects depicted in a still-life that aren’t people or land-features, we call it a still-life and get on to describing how the objects interrelate to each other on the canvas. If you ask me what kind of painting I’m working on, and I say, “a still-life,” you have an expectation of certain elements the painting will contain. If you happen to be an agent and try to sell the painting later, you’ll say to your prospective buyers, “It’s a still-life,” and whether the buyer is over the phone or standing in the gallery, they’ll know whether they’ll like it or not based on whether they like still-lifes. In the same way, they can call you up and ask if you have any still-lifes for sale right now, and get a simple yes-or-no answer for it. This is the first kind of genre, and it applies well within separate types of fundamentally-different media, such as painting, sculpture, film, or the written word.</p>
-<p>So we know what <em>writing</em> is. What is a <em>poem</em>? Especially in a world with such forms as prose poetry, flash fiction, short-shorts, lyrical essays, <a href="http://www.bartleby.com/39/36.html">lyrical <em>ballads</em></a>, et cetera, what makes a poem a poem?</p>
+            <p>A poem, obviously, is in this last category, and for some reason its designation is hairier than others’. People refer to all sorts of art, or even dispassionate events, as poetry; dancing is called “poetry in motion,” for example. I think the confusion is caused in part by the nature of writing as a medium, namely in that it captures thoughts more clearly and communicably than other art forms. While a picture can be “worth a thousand words,” as the old cliché goes, when those words are actually written out they can contain shades of meaning impossible to capture in the picture itself, at least as quickly as they can be absorbed in writing. It seems as though writing is akin to the fundamental nature of thought, or at least of spoken language, which our thought is steeped in.</p>
-<p>I read an essay once that lamented the unidimensionality of writing. It posited that prose is really just a long, wrapped line of text that’s bound by time—when you read a novel, for example, you really must start at the beginning and read through to the end, in order. Some newer forms of fiction are changing this, such as the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure genre in the 1970s and 80s, or hyperfiction found online, which raises the question for me if these newer forms could be considered on some level to be poetry.</p>
+            <p>So we know what <em>writing</em> is. What is a <em>poem</em>? Especially in a world with such forms as prose poetry, flash fiction, short-shorts, lyrical essays, <a href="http://www.bartleby.com/39/36.html">lyrical <em>ballads</em></a>, et cetera, what makes a poem a poem?</p>
-<p>This is because poetry has more than one dimension, due to its linear nature—those line breaks are intentional, and the poem can’t just fit into any-sized book or web page. If prose is a liquid, filling any container it’s placed in with a constant volume, poetry is more like a crystallized form of prose, or to put it another way, poetry has between <a href="http://www.vanderbilt.edu/AnS/psychology/cogsci/chaos/workshop/Fractals.html">one and two dimensions</a>. I wouldn’t say that poetry has fully two dimensions, except for some of the more conceptually visual stuff that I’d call a word-picture anyway, because from line to line that unidimensionality of prose remains. Poetry has a higher dimensionality than prose, though, because it’s crystallized there on the page; this fractal-dimensionality of poetry has interesting side effects on the genre itself.</p>
+            <p>I read an essay once that lamented the unidimensionality of writing. It posited that prose is really just a long, wrapped line of text that’s bound by time—when you read a novel, for example, you really must start at the beginning and read through to the end, in order. Some newer forms of fiction are changing this, such as the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure genre in the 1970s and 80s, or hyperfiction found online, which raises the question for me if these newer forms could be considered on some level to be poetry.</p>
-<p>For one thing, poetry isn’t as bound by time as prose is. It can, as Marianne Boruch writes, resist “narrative sequence,” or “the forward press of <em>time</em> itself,” due to its repetitions and diversions, which are in turn made possible or more apparent by its line breaks. It’s able to meditate on a subject, or expand on it lyrically, exploring the emotions connected with the images in the poem, or the connections between images. Through repitition of sounds, the poem builds meaning through resonance and rhyming, something that’s harder to do in prose. Take, for example, the first lines of “<a href="http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html">The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock</a>:”</p>
+            <p>This is because poetry has more than one dimension, due to its linear nature—those line breaks are intentional, and the poem can’t just fit into any-sized book or web page. If prose is a liquid, filling any container it’s placed in with a constant volume, poetry is more like a crystallized form of prose, or to put it another way, poetry has between <a href="http://www.vanderbilt.edu/AnS/psychology/cogsci/chaos/workshop/Fractals.html">one and two dimensions</a>. I wouldn’t say that poetry has fully two dimensions, except for some of the more conceptually visual stuff that I’d call a word-picture anyway, because from line to line that unidimensionality of prose remains. Poetry has a higher dimensionality than prose, though, because it’s crystallized there on the page; this fractal-dimensionality of poetry has interesting side effects on the genre itself.</p>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>For one thing, poetry isn’t as bound by time as prose is. It can, as Marianne Boruch writes, resist “narrative sequence,” or “the forward press of <em>time</em> itself,” due to its repetitions and diversions, which are in turn made possible or more apparent by its line breaks. It’s able to meditate on a subject, or expand on it lyrically, exploring the emotions connected with the images in the poem, or the connections between images. Through repitition of sounds, the poem builds meaning through resonance and rhyming, something that’s harder to do in prose. Take, for example, the first lines of “<a href="http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html">The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock</a>:”</p>
-<p>LET us go then, you and I,<br />When the evening is spread out against the sky<br />Like a patient etherized upon a table;<br />Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,<br />The muttering retreats<br />Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels<br />And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:<br />Streets that follow like a tedious argument<br />Of insidious intent<br />To lead you to an overwhelming question….<br />Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”<br />Let us go and make our visit.</p>
+            <blockquote>
-</blockquote>
+            <p>LET us go then, you and I,<br />When the evening is spread out against the sky<br />Like a patient etherized upon a table;<br />Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,<br />The muttering retreats<br />Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels<br />And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:<br />Streets that follow like a tedious argument<br />Of insidious intent<br />To lead you to an overwhelming question….<br />Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”<br />Let us go and make our visit.</p>
-<p>And here it is again, without line breaks:</p>
+            </blockquote>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>And here it is again, without line breaks:</p>
-<p>LET us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky like a patient etherized upon a table; let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent to lead you to an overwhelming question…. Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit.</p>
+            <blockquote>
-</blockquote>
+            <p>LET us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky like a patient etherized upon a table; let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent to lead you to an overwhelming question…. Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit.</p>
-<p>The end-rhymes that do so much for the sound of the poem are gone, and so part of the meaning of the poem—its obsessive self-consciousness, its paranoia—are gone as well. Additionally, line breaks act as punctuation in the entirety of this <a href="statements-frag.html">fragment</a>; without them, the meaning becomes obscured in the long first sentence of the poem.</p>
+            </blockquote>
-<p>Perhaps due to this dwelling on scene, or on all aspects of a single scene at one time, poetry tends to be heavy on images, or lyrical. I think this is what’s generally meant when someone describes a dance as “poetic,” or a story or anything else: I think they really mean “lyrical,” or maybe “beautiful.” The images form sort of a narrative as the reader moves through them, as Cesare Pavese says, that’s nevertheless <a href="http://numerocinqmagazine.com/2011/03/07/translation-adaptation-and-transformation-the-poet-as-translator-an-essay-by-richard-jackson/">different than a traditional narrative</a>: this “image narrative” jumps from image to image not by a logical progression but by the resonances between the images that run underneath them, on almost a subliminal plane. Almost without noticing, the reader of a poem is taken on an emotional journey that’s not necessarily connected to the images of the poem, themselves.</p>
+            <p>The end-rhymes that do so much for the sound of the poem are gone, and so part of the meaning of the poem—its obsessive self-consciousness, its paranoia—are gone as well. Additionally, line breaks act as punctuation in the entirety of this <a href="statements-frag.html">fragment</a>; without them, the meaning becomes obscured in the long first sentence of the poem.</p>
-<p>Poetry is a manipulation of emotion, or a communication of it. Prose has the space, the time to describe what’s going on, even if the author stands by the old adage of “show, don’t tell.” <em>Showing</em> in prose inherently involves more telling than poetry does, as poetry communicates a feeling itself. This definition may be broad enough to include certain dance performances or paintings, but that’s okay. I’m of the opinion that the more useful genre distinctions are those which describe the thing technically: <em>verse</em>, for example, or <em>lyrical</em>. <em>Poetry</em> is almost a value judgement, and that makes me a little uncomfortable.</p></section>
+            <p>Perhaps due to this dwelling on scene, or on all aspects of a single scene at one time, poetry tends to be heavy on images, or lyrical. I think this is what’s generally meant when someone describes a dance as “poetic,” or a story or anything else: I think they really mean “lyrical,” or maybe “beautiful.” The images form sort of a narrative as the reader moves through them, as Cesare Pavese says, that’s nevertheless <a href="http://numerocinqmagazine.com/2011/03/07/translation-adaptation-and-transformation-the-poet-as-translator-an-essay-by-richard-jackson/">different than a traditional narrative</a>: this “image narrative” jumps from image to image not by a logical progression but by the resonances between the images that run underneath them, on almost a subliminal plane. Almost without noticing, the reader of a poem is taken on an emotional journey that’s not necessarily connected to the images of the poem, themselves.</p>
+            <p>Poetry is a manipulation of emotion, or a communication of it. Prose has the space, the time to describe what’s going on, even if the author stands by the old adage of “show, don’t tell.” <em>Showing</em> in prose inherently involves more telling than poetry does, as poetry communicates a feeling itself. This definition may be broad enough to include certain dance performances or paintings, but that’s okay. I’m of the opinion that the more useful genre distinctions are those which describe the thing technically: <em>verse</em>, for example, or <em>lyrical</em>. <em>Poetry</em> is almost a value judgement, and that makes me a little uncomfortable.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
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    <title>On formal poetry | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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            <h1 class="title">On formal poetry</h1>
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-        <section class="content verse"><p>I think that I could write formal poems<br />exclusively, or at least inclusive<br />with all the other stuff I write<br />I guess. Of course, I’ve already written<br />a few, this one included, though “formal”<br />is maybe a stretch. Is blank verse a form?<br />What is form anyway? I picture old<br />women counting <a href="roughgloves.html">stitches on their knitting</a>,<br />keeping iambs next to iambs in lines<br />as straight and sure as arrows. But my sock<br />is lumpy, poorly made: it’s beginning<br />to unravel. Stresses don’t line up. Syl-<br />lables forced to fit like <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">McNugget</a> molds.<br />That cliché on the arrow? I’m aware.<br />My prepositions too—God, where’s it stop?<br />The answer: never. I will never stop<br />writing poems, or hating what I write.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>I think that I could write formal poems<br />exclusively, or at least inclusive<br />with all the other stuff I write<br />I guess. Of course, I’ve already written<br />a few, this one included, though “formal”<br />is maybe a stretch. Is blank verse a form?<br />What is form anyway? I picture old<br />women counting <a href="roughgloves.html">stitches on their knitting</a>,<br />keeping iambs next to iambs in lines<br />as straight and sure as arrows. But my sock<br />is lumpy, poorly made: it’s beginning<br />to unravel. Stresses don’t line up. Syl-<br />lables forced to fit like <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">McNugget</a> molds.<br />That cliché on the arrow? I’m aware.<br />My prepositions too—God, where’s it stop?<br />The answer: never. I will never stop<br />writing poems, or hating what I write.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
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    <title>Options | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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-        <section class="content prose"><p>What did he do when he was in the woods? Where did he go? Was there always one spot, one clearing deep within the heart of them, that he would visit? Did he talk to the trees or only to himself? When he chopped down trees, did he leave them there to rot in the quiet or did he drag them out of the woods, behind his Shack, and <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">dismember them</a>? Did he use any for firewood, or did the pieces rot behind his Shack, forgotten? When was the last time he built any furniture? Did he get any better at building it or did he just quit at some point, let the desire to create fall behind him like a forgotten felled tree?</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>A tree fell in the forest: did it make a noise? Paul typed his thoughts on cards, or wrote them in a book: did anyone read it? If anyone did, was his life changed? For the better or the worse? Did he glance at the mess in the top drawer of his Writing Desk as he cleaned the Shack out long after Paul had quit using it? Did he put tools in there or leave it empty? <a href="finding-the-lion.html">What did he do with the desk?</a> Did he add it to the pile of rotting wood out back, or did he chop it up for a bonfire with friends, or a cozy fire with his wife and children, or did he take it to the dump three miles away to rot there? Are these all the options?</p>
+            <p>What did he do when he was in the woods? Where did he go? Was there always one spot, one clearing deep within the heart of them, that he would visit? Did he talk to the trees or only to himself? When he chopped down trees, did he leave them there to rot in the quiet or did he drag them out of the woods, behind his Shack, and <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">dismember them</a>? Did he use any for firewood, or did the pieces rot behind his Shack, forgotten? When was the last time he built any furniture? Did he get any better at building it or did he just quit at some point, let the desire to create fall behind him like a forgotten felled tree?</p>
-<p>Did Paul ever think about any of this? Walking in the woods one afternoon after becoming frustrated with his writing, did he sit on a stump and cry? Did he wonder whether he should have made other choices? Did he consider quitting smoking?</p></section>
+            <p>A tree fell in the forest: did it make a noise? Paul typed his thoughts on cards, or wrote them in a book: did anyone read it? If anyone did, was his life changed? For the better or the worse? Did he glance at the mess in the top drawer of his Writing Desk as he cleaned the Shack out long after Paul had quit using it? Did he put tools in there or leave it empty? <a href="finding-the-lion.html">What did he do with the desk?</a> Did he add it to the pile of rotting wood out back, or did he chop it up for a bonfire with friends, or a cozy fire with his wife and children, or did he take it to the dump three miles away to rot there? Are these all the options?</p>
+            <p>Did Paul ever think about any of this? Walking in the woods one afternoon after becoming frustrated with his writing, did he sit on a stump and cry? Did he wonder whether he should have made other choices? Did he consider quitting smoking?</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="swear.html"
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    <title>Ouroboros of Memory | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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-        <section class="content prose"><p><a href="joke.html">He said</a> at the beginning, “It’s like rolling yarn into a too-small ball. Sure, you can roll the memories around for a while, and maybe even use some of them. Eventually, though, you’ll wind them all the way out and you’ll be left with nothing but a small loop. You can tie this loop around your finger, and start wrapping your body, but this is an extension of the same problem. You’ll turn into a mummy of memory. There’ll be nothing left underneath but a dead body.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“But what does it mean, <em>To remember the body with the body?</em> I imagine a creature made of memory, putting its feet in its mouth, turning into a ball. In this way, it could roll all around the landscape of its memory. I’ve tried explaining this to other people, but it doesn’t make any sense to them. The task of eating one’s feet is, to them, an unsolvable problem. They seem to forgotten that, as babies, they were able to make themselves into loops.</p>
+            <p><a href="joke.html">He said</a> at the beginning, “It’s like rolling yarn into a too-small ball. Sure, you can roll the memories around for a while, and maybe even use some of them. Eventually, though, you’ll wind them all the way out and you’ll be left with nothing but a small loop. You can tie this loop around your finger, and start wrapping your body, but this is an extension of the same problem. You’ll turn into a mummy of memory. There’ll be nothing left underneath but a dead body.</p>
-<p>“So I increase the count to two: two snakes eating each other’s tales, forming a loop. In this way they are able to put two heads on one body. This doubles the number of memories, which really only exacerbates the problem. It’s like trying to roll two different materials up into a ball. The people I tell this to don’t understand this either, they say using two animals makes sense to them. They say there must be different types of memory.</p>
+            <p>“But what does it mean, <em>To remember the body with the body?</em> I imagine a creature made of memory, putting its feet in its mouth, turning into a ball. In this way, it could roll all around the landscape of its memory. I’ve tried explaining this to other people, but it doesn’t make any sense to them. The task of eating one’s feet is, to them, an unsolvable problem. They seem to forgotten that, as babies, they were able to make themselves into loops.</p>
-<p>“I disagree with this theory of memory. I think there is, at bottom, only one type of anything, with subtypes grouped together along the edge of a loop. Color becomes a good metaphor: look how many of them! yet they are all consumed by the same part of the body. Maybe two different materials are still made of material, and maybe they can be rolled into a ball. Maybe there actually never was a problem.</p>
+            <p>“So I increase the count to two: two snakes eating each other’s tales, forming a loop. In this way they are able to put two heads on one body. This doubles the number of memories, which really only exacerbates the problem. It’s like trying to roll two different materials up into a ball. The people I tell this to don’t understand this either, they say using two animals makes sense to them. They say there must be different types of memory.</p>
-<p>“Or maybe, and this is more likely, I need to restate the problem. I think it all boils down to the fact that I have a truly lousy memory. I’ve tried different mnemonic devices, like imagining each thing I need to remember being visited by a bouncing ball. I’ve tried trying string into finger-loops. I’ve even tried writing the things I need to remember on my body. If you asked me, ‘Do any of these work,’ I would have to answer, ‘None of them.’</p>
+            <p>“I disagree with this theory of memory. I think there is, at bottom, only one type of anything, with subtypes grouped together along the edge of a loop. Color becomes a good metaphor: look how many of them! yet they are all consumed by the same part of the body. Maybe two different materials are still made of material, and maybe they can be rolled into a ball. Maybe there actually never was a problem.</p>
-<p>“Sometimes in the morning I realize dumbly I’ve forgotten my words, all of them. They generally come back by around ten o’clock, but the frequency with which this is occurring is becoming a problem. I feel that my brain is being separated from my body. Is there a place in the universe for a misplaced memory? Does it eat its own tail and roll around the universe as it loops? Does it shrink down and become lost as a tiny ball?</p>
+            <p>“Or maybe, and this is more likely, I need to restate the problem. I think it all boils down to the fact that I have a truly lousy memory. I’ve tried different mnemonic devices, like imagining each thing I need to remember being visited by a bouncing ball. I’ve tried trying string into finger-loops. I’ve even tried writing the things I need to remember on my body. If you asked me, ‘Do any of these work,’ I would have to answer, ‘None of them.’</p>
-<p>No matter what happens, eventually <em>I</em> will become <em>them</em> as I lose the last of my memory. I won’t be able to solve the problem of my being, and my being will become my problem, in an eternal loop. I will roll my body into a prenatal ball.</p></section>
+            <p>“Sometimes in the morning I realize dumbly I’ve forgotten my words, all of them. They generally come back by around ten o’clock, but the frequency with which this is occurring is becoming a problem. I feel that my brain is being separated from my body. Is there a place in the universe for a misplaced memory? Does it eat its own tail and roll around the universe as it loops? Does it shrink down and become lost as a tiny ball?</p>
+            <p>No matter what happens, eventually <em>I</em> will become <em>them</em> as I lose the last of my memory. I won’t be able to solve the problem of my being, and my being will become my problem, in an eternal loop. I will roll my body into a prenatal ball.</p>
+        </section>
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    <title>Paul | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="paul" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Paul</h1>
@@ -40,37 +36,39 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><blockquote>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>CONTENTS OF THE SHED</p>
+            <blockquote>
-<ul>
+            <p>CONTENTS OF THE SHED</p>
-<li>typewriter</li>
+            <ul>
-<li>writing desk</li>
+            <li>typewriter</li>
-<li>notecards (top drawer of desk)</li>
+            <li>writing desk</li>
-<li><a href="howithappened.html">pen</a> (fountain)</li>
+            <li>notecards (top drawer of desk)</li>
-<li>inkpot (empty)</li>
+            <li><a href="howithappened.html">pen</a> (fountain)</li>
-<li>wood (a lot, more out back)</li>
+            <li>inkpot (empty)</li>
-<li>bare lightbulb</li>
+            <li>wood (a lot, more out back)</li>
-<li>candle</li>
+            <li>bare lightbulb</li>
-<li>wooden shelf with tools:
+            <li>candle</li>
-<ul>
+            <li>wooden shelf with tools:
-<li>claw hammer</li>
+            <ul>
-<li>screwdriver</li>
+            <li>claw hammer</li>
-<li>prybar</li>
+            <li>screwdriver</li>
-<li>2x wrench (different kinds)</li>
+            <li>prybar</li>
-</ul></li>
+            <li>2x wrench (different kinds)</li>
-<li>tiller machine</li>
+            </ul></li>
-<li>push lawnmower</li>
+            <li>tiller machine</li>
-<li>hatchet</li>
+            <li>push lawnmower</li>
-<li>axe</li>
+            <li>hatchet</li>
-</ul>
+            <li>axe</li>
-</blockquote>
+            </ul>
-<p>He typed the list in the typewriter and looked around some more. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Finally it hit him and he smiled. He typed one more line, stood up, and went out of the shed.</p>
+            </blockquote>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>He typed the list in the typewriter and looked around some more. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Finally it hit him and he smiled. He typed one more line, stood up, and went out of the shed.</p>
-<ul>
+            <blockquote>
-<li>Paul Bunyon</li>
+            <ul>
-</ul>
+            <li>Paul Bunyon</li>
-</blockquote>
+            </ul>
-<p>He got some kerosene from under the house, poured it around the base of the shed, lit a cigarette. He smoked half of it and threw it down to start the fire.</p></section>
+            </blockquote>
+            <p>He got some kerosene from under the house, poured it around the base of the shed, lit a cigarette. He smoked half of it and threw it down to start the fire.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="father.html"
diff --git a/peaches.html b/peaches.html
index 08f161f..a749b0b 100644
--- a/peaches.html
+++ b/peaches.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Peaches | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="peaches" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Peaches</h1>
@@ -40,21 +36,23 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“My anger is like a peach,” he said. He was trying to show how metaphors could be anything. I thought it worked. I wrote it down in my red notebook.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>In my other class, there was a long discussion about the difference between metaphor and simile as they relate to <a href="http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html">Prufrock</a>. I could only think about his peaches. I wonder if he dared.</p>
+            <p>“My anger is like a peach,” he said. He was trying to show how metaphors could be anything. I thought it worked. I wrote it down in my red notebook.</p>
-<p>A few years ago my friend dressed up as J. Alfred Prufrock for Halloween. Her costume consisted of rolled khaki trousers and a peach. (I wonder where she found that in <a href="axe.html">October</a>.) She was annoyed that she had to tell everyone who she was—“At a writers’ party!” I don’t remember if she ate that peach. I do remember the main meal was spaghetti.</p>
+            <p>In my other class, there was a long discussion about the difference between metaphor and simile as they relate to <a href="http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html">Prufrock</a>. I could only think about his peaches. I wonder if he dared.</p>
-<p>That party was held in a house in Chattanooga, in the basement. There was a big back yard where people drank and talked and sat in the darkness. Somewhere someone was smoking weed with a visiting writer.</p>
+            <p>A few years ago my friend dressed up as J. Alfred Prufrock for Halloween. Her costume consisted of rolled khaki trousers and a peach. (I wonder where she found that in <a href="axe.html">October</a>.) She was annoyed that she had to tell everyone who she was—“At a writers’ party!” I don’t remember if she ate that peach. I do remember the main meal was spaghetti.</p>
-<p>Earlier that day, <a href="http://www.32poems.com/blog/5158/weekly-prose-feature-an-interview-with-sebastian-matthews-by-justin-bigos">the writer had read a poem about his car accident</a> a year ago, in Georgia, on the interstate. It had broken him pretty badly, and his wife, but somehow their child was unharmed. He said something about the peach pit being the one place Georgia held sacred. He said it was the place where all new things grow.</p>
+            <p>That party was held in a house in Chattanooga, in the basement. There was a big back yard where people drank and talked and sat in the darkness. Somewhere someone was smoking weed with a visiting writer.</p>
-<p>I can see how anger could be like a peach: its juice runs out of the mouth and down the chin, dropping onto the pants and staining them. In the same way, I can see how <a href="statements-frag.html">anger is like sex</a>: they are both heightened states of emotional observation.</p>
+            <p>Earlier that day, <a href="http://www.32poems.com/blog/5158/weekly-prose-feature-an-interview-with-sebastian-matthews-by-justin-bigos">the writer had read a poem about his car accident</a> a year ago, in Georgia, on the interstate. It had broken him pretty badly, and his wife, but somehow their child was unharmed. He said something about the peach pit being the one place Georgia held sacred. He said it was the place where all new things grow.</p>
-<p>In Atlanta, there are something like five or ten <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Peachtree+Rd+NE,+Atlanta,+GA/@33.7779425,-84.3843615">Peachtree Streets</a>. I’m not sure if they all connect at some point, but from what I could see, they would have to do some contorting to get to the same point. I like to think a giant peach tree grows there, like the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.</p>
+            <p>I can see how anger could be like a peach: its juice runs out of the mouth and down the chin, dropping onto the pants and staining them. In the same way, I can see how <a href="statements-frag.html">anger is like sex</a>: they are both heightened states of emotional observation.</p>
-<p>I was walking down one of Atlanta’s Peachtrees with my girlfriend when a man in tight pants, a runner, jogged past us. We both agreed he had a marvelous ass. I was annoyed, however, when she confessed that she wished I had one like his. Later, we ate at a taqueria with peach-habanero salsa.</p>
+            <p>In Atlanta, there are something like five or ten <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Peachtree+Rd+NE,+Atlanta,+GA/@33.7779425,-84.3843615">Peachtree Streets</a>. I’m not sure if they all connect at some point, but from what I could see, they would have to do some contorting to get to the same point. I like to think a giant peach tree grows there, like the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.</p>
-<p><a href="riptide_memory.html">My mother</a> would read to us as children. The first real books I remember, the first novels, are Island of the Blue Dolphins and James and the Giant Peach. I don’t remember Island of the Blue Dolphins as well, probably because no movie was made of it.</p>
+            <p>I was walking down one of Atlanta’s Peachtrees with my girlfriend when a man in tight pants, a runner, jogged past us. We both agreed he had a marvelous ass. I was annoyed, however, when she confessed that she wished I had one like his. Later, we ate at a taqueria with peach-habanero salsa.</p>
-<p>There’s an independent video rental store where I grew up called <a href="http://popcornvideo.net/">Popcorn Video</a>, one of the only stores I went to in my hometown that wasn’t a chain. Every time we went, my sister would rent two movies: <em>James and the Giant Peach</em> and <em>Home Alone 3</em>.</p>
+            <p><a href="riptide_memory.html">My mother</a> would read to us as children. The first real books I remember, the first novels, are Island of the Blue Dolphins and James and the Giant Peach. I don’t remember Island of the Blue Dolphins as well, probably because no movie was made of it.</p>
-<p>I wasn’t allowed to stay home alone, or I don’t remember it, until I was fifteen. I built a potato cannon out of PVC pipe and a barbecue lighter. I would load a potato, spray hairspray into the barrel, and light it. Once, the cannon wouldn’t light. I looked down the barrel and pushed the trigger button to see if I could see a light. I forgot that I had already primed the barrel with hairspray. I singed my eyebrows and bangs.</p>
+            <p>There’s an independent video rental store where I grew up called <a href="http://popcornvideo.net/">Popcorn Video</a>, one of the only stores I went to in my hometown that wasn’t a chain. Every time we went, my sister would rent two movies: <em>James and the Giant Peach</em> and <em>Home Alone 3</em>.</p>
-<p>In peach season, my father would bring home a bag of the freestones every week or so. He always got the cheap ones, so they were usually dry and pithy, with a stone that fell apart and nearly broke my tooth. I don’t eat them anymore when I go home.</p>
+            <p>I wasn’t allowed to stay home alone, or I don’t remember it, until I was fifteen. I built a potato cannon out of PVC pipe and a barbecue lighter. I would load a potato, spray hairspray into the barrel, and light it. Once, the cannon wouldn’t light. I looked down the barrel and pushed the trigger button to see if I could see a light. I forgot that I had already primed the barrel with hairspray. I singed my eyebrows and bangs.</p>
-<p>My mother would always eat canned peaches with cottage cheese. For some reason I didn’t think this was common knowledge. I showed people how good it was when we went to a buffet: they said “I know.”</p>
+            <p>In peach season, my father would bring home a bag of the freestones every week or so. He always got the cheap ones, so they were usually dry and pithy, with a stone that fell apart and nearly broke my tooth. I don’t eat them anymore when I go home.</p>
-<p>To be honest, I’m not even sure what a peach tree looks like. I do know what an orange tree looks like, from a backyard in Phoenix, and a fig tree, from a back yard in Chattanooga. I also know what a cherry tree looks like, or at least a type of them, from my own backyard at home, as well as mulberry and apple. If, for some reason, I find myself lost in a sinister Garden of Eden, I’ll at least know a few of the trees I can eat from.</p>
+            <p>My mother would always eat canned peaches with cottage cheese. For some reason I didn’t think this was common knowledge. I showed people how good it was when we went to a buffet: they said “I know.”</p>
-<p>I always heard growing up that the Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was an apple. Maybe I’ll luck out: maybe it’ll be a peach.</p></section>
+            <p>To be honest, I’m not even sure what a peach tree looks like. I do know what an orange tree looks like, from a backyard in Phoenix, and a fig tree, from a back yard in Chattanooga. I also know what a cherry tree looks like, or at least a type of them, from my own backyard at home, as well as mulberry and apple. If, for some reason, I find myself lost in a sinister Garden of Eden, I’ll at least know a few of the trees I can eat from.</p>
+            <p>I always heard growing up that the Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was an apple. Maybe I’ll luck out: maybe it’ll be a peach.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/philosophy.html b/philosophy.html
index 766971e..fc020c5 100644
--- a/philosophy.html
+++ b/philosophy.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Philosophy | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="philosophy" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Philosophy</h1>
@@ -40,8 +36,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Importance is important. But meaning is meaningful. Here we are at the crux of the matter, for both meaning and importance are also human-formed. So it would seem that nothing is important or meaningful, if importance and meaning are of themselves only products of the fallible human intellect. But here is the great secret: <em>so is the fallibility of the human intellect a mere product of the fallible human intellect.</em> The question here arises: Is anything real, and not a mere invention of a mistaken human mind? By real of course I mean “that which is <em>on its own terms</em>,” that is, without any <a href="i-am.html">modification</a> on the part of mankind by observing it. But such a thing is impossible to be known, for if it be known it has certainly been observed by someone, and so it is not on its own terms but on the terms of the observer. So it cannot be known if anything exists on its own terms, for it exists on its own terms we certainly will not know anything about it.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>By this it is possible to see that nothing is knowable without the mediating factor of our mind fucking up the “<a href="spittle.html">raw</a>,” the “real” world. But by this time it would seem that this chapter is far far too philosophical, not to mention pretentious, so I must try again.</p></section>
+            <p>Importance is important. But meaning is meaningful. Here we are at the crux of the matter, for both meaning and importance are also human-formed. So it would seem that nothing is important or meaningful, if importance and meaning are of themselves only products of the fallible human intellect. But here is the great secret: <em>so is the fallibility of the human intellect a mere product of the fallible human intellect.</em> The question here arises: Is anything real, and not a mere invention of a mistaken human mind? By real of course I mean “that which is <em>on its own terms</em>,” that is, without any <a href="i-am.html">modification</a> on the part of mankind by observing it. But such a thing is impossible to be known, for if it be known it has certainly been observed by someone, and so it is not on its own terms but on the terms of the observer. So it cannot be known if anything exists on its own terms, for it exists on its own terms we certainly will not know anything about it.</p>
+            <p>By this it is possible to see that nothing is knowable without the mediating factor of our mind fucking up the “<a href="spittle.html">raw</a>,” the “real” world. But by this time it would seem that this chapter is far far too philosophical, not to mention pretentious, so I must try again.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="purpose-dogs.html"
diff --git a/phone.html b/phone.html
index a6860e0..1f2f836 100644
--- a/phone.html
+++ b/phone.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Phone | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="phone" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Phone</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“Hello Paul this is Jill Jill Noe remember me” the voice on the phone was a woman’s. He nodded into the receiver. “Hello” Jill asked again “hello?” Paul remembered that phones work by talking and said “Hello Jill.”</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Do you remember me” she asked “we were in school together? How have you been?” “Pretty well” said Paul “I’ve been writing and making furniture.” “Oh that’s nice” <a href="telemarketer.html">said the woman’s voice</a> tinny in the phone “Listen I ran into your mother at the <a href="last-bastion.html">Supermarket</a> the other day and she said you need a job. You still need one?” Paul had to tell the truth. His mother was watching him out of the corner of her eye as she was playing dominoes at the kitchen table. “Yes” he said sighing “Although woodworking takes up much of my time.”</p>
+            <p>“Hello Paul this is Jill Jill Noe remember me” the voice on the phone was a woman’s. He nodded into the receiver. “Hello” Jill asked again “hello?” Paul remembered that phones work by talking and said “Hello Jill.”</p>
-<p>“OK” she laughed uncomortably “I actually have something you could do for me if you think you can get away from woodworking a bit. It’s just data entry really basic stuff entry-level.” “What’s it pay” he asked. “Minimum but there is room for movement.” “OK” he said. “Start on Monday okay?” “Sure” he said “bye” and the tin voice in the phone said “Goodbye Paul see you” by the time he put it back on the hook.</p>
+            <p>“Do you remember me” she asked “we were in school together? How have you been?” “Pretty well” said Paul “I’ve been writing and making furniture.” “Oh that’s nice” <a href="telemarketer.html">said the woman’s voice</a> tinny in the phone “Listen I ran into your mother at the <a href="last-bastion.html">Supermarket</a> the other day and she said you need a job. You still need one?” Paul had to tell the truth. His mother was watching him out of the corner of her eye as she was playing dominoes at the kitchen table. “Yes” he said sighing “Although woodworking takes up much of my time.”</p>
-<p>“Who was that” asked his mother. “Jill Noe” he said. “Oh her was she calling about a job for you?” “Yes starts Monday” he said. She smiled behind her glasses reflecting dominoes.</p></section>
+            <p>“OK” she laughed uncomortably “I actually have something you could do for me if you think you can get away from woodworking a bit. It’s just data entry really basic stuff entry-level.” “What’s it pay” he asked. “Minimum but there is room for movement.” “OK” he said. “Start on Monday okay?” “Sure” he said “bye” and the tin voice in the phone said “Goodbye Paul see you” by the time he put it back on the hook.</p>
+            <p>“Who was that” asked his mother. “Jill Noe” he said. “Oh her was she calling about a job for you?” “Yes starts Monday” he said. She smiled behind her glasses reflecting dominoes.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="treatise.html"
diff --git a/planks.html b/planks.html
index c7bfd92..bc409b4 100644
--- a/planks.html
+++ b/planks.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Planks | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="planks" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Planks</h1>
@@ -40,12 +36,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><blockquote>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><a href="swear.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING</a> <a href="howtoread.html">STAYS THE SAME</a></p>
+            <blockquote>
-</blockquote>
+            <p><a href="swear.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING</a> <a href="howtoread.html">STAYS THE SAME</a></p>
-<p>This sat alone on a blank notecard in Paul’s typewriter. He stared at it, sipping at his too-hot coffee. This made sense to him.</p>
+            </blockquote>
-<p>He looked at the spot on the wall where he wanted a window to be, at the rough planks above his desk as they were lit by the bare hanging lightbulb. He sipped his coffee again. It was still too hot. His Woodworking Shack was becoming full of wood that was not furniture. He feared it would never become so.</p>
+            <p>This sat alone on a blank notecard in Paul’s typewriter. He stared at it, sipping at his too-hot coffee. This made sense to him.</p>
-<p>He threw open the door to the snow and the ground below it. He reached for his axe on the wall. He reconsidered. He took a few tentative steps onto the <a href="in-bed.html">blankness</a> on his own. He wasn’t cold, not yet. He walked into the forest. The snow crunched under his feet and <a href="last-passenger.html">did not echo</a>.</p></section>
+            <p>He looked at the spot on the wall where he wanted a window to be, at the rough planks above his desk as they were lit by the bare hanging lightbulb. He sipped his coffee again. It was still too hot. His Woodworking Shack was becoming full of wood that was not furniture. He feared it would never become so.</p>
+            <p>He threw open the door to the snow and the ground below it. He reached for his axe on the wall. He reconsidered. He took a few tentative steps onto the <a href="in-bed.html">blankness</a> on his own. He wasn’t cold, not yet. He walked into the forest. The snow crunched under his feet and <a href="last-passenger.html">did not echo</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="leg.html"
diff --git a/plant.html b/plant.html
index 6e1e984..b6db43e 100644
--- a/plant.html
+++ b/plant.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Litany for a plant | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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+<body id="plant" class="autocento">
    
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+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Litany for a plant</h1>
@@ -40,8 +36,10 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I need a plant. I need a thing<br />to take care of. I need<br />a little green brownspotted<br /><a href="building.html">blackdirt</a> growing<br />quietness. I need a sunlit<br />dawn knowing my name filtered<br />through a <a href="window.html">thin green window</a>.<br />I need chlorophyll<br />working its <a href="cereal.html">magic</a> on beams of<br />grassmade early morning dewdrop<br />sweetmaking green. I need<br />the dark earth sucking water<br />from a black crevice<br />its black magic churning<br />wormilled rockturned starblind<br />darkness and cold into<br /><a href="https://samofthetenthousandthings.wordpress.com/2012/09/08/charles-wright-reads-james-wright-the-journey-audio-poem/">the opposite of dust</a>. I need the heat<br />to blind me. I need the dumb making<br />to charge my coldened blood. I need<br />the dropturned leaves to turn again<br />their <a href="no-nothing.html">faces to the windblown sun</a>.<br />I need millions of tiny years<br />summed up and burning out some unknown<br />new growth into the air. I need four<br />hundred feet of dark red gnarled wood<br />and needles glistening wetly on goldheaded<br />branches hoisting themselves<br />to the sky. I need ten strong men<br />to fail to bring you down. Old one<br />I need the peace that comes with knowing<br />something sacred holds still<br />in the world. I need your green tongues<br /><a href="fire.html">of flame to lick at old wounds</a><br />stitching us together away from ourselves.<br />I need your brownbranching grasp<br />to keep me from drifting off<br />into <a href="in-bed.html">unknowing terrible sleep</a>. I need<br /><a href="ouroboros_memory.html">to know the snake</a> hanging<br />from your branches. I need to watch<br />the dropping of flesh massful<br />onto the ground from a height. I need<br />the gnawer at your root to strike<br />a vein to quicken old brown stone<br />to movement. I need jeweleyed venom<br />barking new greennesses into the bark.<br />I need a knocker of dark secrets hidden<br />in the dark bark hiding a smallstone<br />smoldering pearl in the knot. I need<br />that <a href="roughgloves.html">pearl held out in a hand</a> like an offering.<br />I need the hand to be a plant’s hand.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I need a plant. I need a growing<br />growler <a href="feedingtheraven.html">groaning</a> toward heat and air.<br />I need a green thin stem surprisingly strong<br />holding up the weight of a plain<br />of fallow <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">greennesses of creases and caresses</a><br />of tiny worldmaking hardworking grandeur.<br />I need a singer of life crying<br />forward into old roads covered over<br />by dead trees. I need the rasping of root<br />in dirt. I need the unfurling of fiddleheads<br />to sing forth a new symphony. I need<br />fruits swelling large for the harvest.<br />I need yellow light shining through white bark.<br />I need juicecrush flowing waterlike<br />through valleys percolating up<br />through the ground. I need springs bubbling sap<br />into cabins of wood fought for by labor.<br />I need snow on the ground with shoots<br />dotting the melting patches. I need two<br />leaves on a thin stalk shivering<br />in <a href="finding-the-lion.html">moonlight</a>. I need robinsong warbling<br />over the heads of small seeds sprouting<br />to enliven their growth. I need rings<br />of woody material widening to push<br />the ground out of their way. I need<br />new greennesses pushing out from<br />the brown dark bark gnarled. I<br />need the robin to build its songfilled<br />nest in a <a href="epigraph.html">branchcrotch</a>. I need<br />the fecundity of fungi on the branches.<br />I need quiet of the sunlight shooting<br />through thousands of branched leaves<br />quivering. <a href="apollo11.html">I need whisper at dawn.</a><br />I need burrows underground foxholes.<br />I need duff layers eaten through<br />by worms. I need brooks murmuring<br />through crooks of roots. I need small<br /><a href="proverbs.html">fish swimming</a> in their schools at<br />midnight. I need oldnesses giving way<br /><a href="about-the-author.html">to youngnesses giving way to oldnesses</a>.<br />I need dapplegray yellowshot ashbark.<br />I need the crunch of dead leaves underfoot.<br />I need <a href="100-lines.html">snowquiet deadbranch</a> mourning.<br />I need those <a href="http://www.wrensworld.com/purpmount.htm">purple mountains majesty</a>.<br />I need a walk between trees in the dark.<br />I need that moment when stopping to rest<br />it suddenly seems that all the weary<br /><a href="http://www.bartleby.com/119/1.html">forestroads</a> in all their meandering come<br /><a href="riptide_memory.html">to rest their heads</a> at my astonished<br />feet, none of them needing more than me.</p></section>
+            <p>I need a plant. I need a thing<br />to take care of. I need<br />a little green brownspotted<br /><a href="building.html">blackdirt</a> growing<br />quietness. I need a sunlit<br />dawn knowing my name filtered<br />through a <a href="window.html">thin green window</a>.<br />I need chlorophyll<br />working its <a href="cereal.html">magic</a> on beams of<br />grassmade early morning dewdrop<br />sweetmaking green. I need<br />the dark earth sucking water<br />from a black crevice<br />its black magic churning<br />wormilled rockturned starblind<br />darkness and cold into<br /><a href="https://samofthetenthousandthings.wordpress.com/2012/09/08/charles-wright-reads-james-wright-the-journey-audio-poem/">the opposite of dust</a>. I need the heat<br />to blind me. I need the dumb making<br />to charge my coldened blood. I need<br />the dropturned leaves to turn again<br />their <a href="no-nothing.html">faces to the windblown sun</a>.<br />I need millions of tiny years<br />summed up and burning out some unknown<br />new growth into the air. I need four<br />hundred feet of dark red gnarled wood<br />and needles glistening wetly on goldheaded<br />branches hoisting themselves<br />to the sky. I need ten strong men<br />to fail to bring you down. Old one<br />I need the peace that comes with knowing<br />something sacred holds still<br />in the world. I need your green tongues<br /><a href="fire.html">of flame to lick at old wounds</a><br />stitching us together away from ourselves.<br />I need your brownbranching grasp<br />to keep me from drifting off<br />into <a href="in-bed.html">unknowing terrible sleep</a>. I need<br /><a href="ouroboros_memory.html">to know the snake</a> hanging<br />from your branches. I need to watch<br />the dropping of flesh massful<br />onto the ground from a height. I need<br />the gnawer at your root to strike<br />a vein to quicken old brown stone<br />to movement. I need jeweleyed venom<br />barking new greennesses into the bark.<br />I need a knocker of dark secrets hidden<br />in the dark bark hiding a smallstone<br />smoldering pearl in the knot. I need<br />that <a href="roughgloves.html">pearl held out in a hand</a> like an offering.<br />I need the hand to be a plant’s hand.</p>
+            <p>I need a plant. I need a growing<br />growler <a href="feedingtheraven.html">groaning</a> toward heat and air.<br />I need a green thin stem surprisingly strong<br />holding up the weight of a plain<br />of fallow <a href="the-sea_the-beach.html">greennesses of creases and caresses</a><br />of tiny worldmaking hardworking grandeur.<br />I need a singer of life crying<br />forward into old roads covered over<br />by dead trees. I need the rasping of root<br />in dirt. I need the unfurling of fiddleheads<br />to sing forth a new symphony. I need<br />fruits swelling large for the harvest.<br />I need yellow light shining through white bark.<br />I need juicecrush flowing waterlike<br />through valleys percolating up<br />through the ground. I need springs bubbling sap<br />into cabins of wood fought for by labor.<br />I need snow on the ground with shoots<br />dotting the melting patches. I need two<br />leaves on a thin stalk shivering<br />in <a href="finding-the-lion.html">moonlight</a>. I need robinsong warbling<br />over the heads of small seeds sprouting<br />to enliven their growth. I need rings<br />of woody material widening to push<br />the ground out of their way. I need<br />new greennesses pushing out from<br />the brown dark bark gnarled. I<br />need the robin to build its songfilled<br />nest in a <a href="epigraph.html">branchcrotch</a>. I need<br />the fecundity of fungi on the branches.<br />I need quiet of the sunlight shooting<br />through thousands of branched leaves<br />quivering. <a href="apollo11.html">I need whisper at dawn.</a><br />I need burrows underground foxholes.<br />I need duff layers eaten through<br />by worms. I need brooks murmuring<br />through crooks of roots. I need small<br /><a href="proverbs.html">fish swimming</a> in their schools at<br />midnight. I need oldnesses giving way<br /><a href="about-the-author.html">to youngnesses giving way to oldnesses</a>.<br />I need dapplegray yellowshot ashbark.<br />I need the crunch of dead leaves underfoot.<br />I need <a href="100-lines.html">snowquiet deadbranch</a> mourning.<br />I need those <a href="http://www.wrensworld.com/purpmount.htm">purple mountains majesty</a>.<br />I need a walk between trees in the dark.<br />I need that moment when stopping to rest<br />it suddenly seems that all the weary<br /><a href="http://www.bartleby.com/119/1.html">forestroads</a> in all their meandering come<br /><a href="riptide_memory.html">to rest their heads</a> at my astonished<br />feet, none of them needing more than me.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/poetry-time.html b/poetry-time.html
index e180465..33eb018 100644
--- a/poetry-time.html
+++ b/poetry-time.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Something | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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+<body id="poetry-time" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Something</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I’m writing this now because I have to.<br />Not in some “my soul yearns for this and<br />I can’t help it” way, but in the way that this<br />moment is structured as such, that it is<br />crystallized this way, me writing this, and later<br />you reading it, now for you, later for me,</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>and this tenuous connection mates me<br />and you forever, combined with each other, two<br /><a href="treatise.html">electrons momentarily entwined</a>. Later,<br />when I’m dead or far too famous for you, and<br />you’re in school, reading my words because it is<br />required reading, I want you to remember this</p>
+            <p>I’m writing this now because I have to.<br />Not in some “my soul yearns for this and<br />I can’t help it” way, but in the way that this<br />moment is structured as such, that it is<br />crystallized this way, me writing this, and later<br />you reading it, now for you, later for me,</p>
-<p>connection we’ve always had, this<br /><a href="last-passenger.html">spider’s thread</a> hanging between you and me.<br />Which of us is the spider and which is<br />the fly still remains to be seen. To<br />eat, perchance to fly: all of that and<br />more. We can settle all of this later.</p>
+            <p>and this tenuous connection mates me<br />and you forever, combined with each other, two<br /><a href="treatise.html">electrons momentarily entwined</a>. Later,<br />when I’m dead or far too famous for you, and<br />you’re in school, reading my words because it is<br />required reading, I want you to remember this</p>
-<p>Yes, it is you I’m thinking of in your later<br />time: you specifically, not another. This<br />is true for all <math display="inline" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML"><mrow><mi>x</mi></mrow></math> such that <math display="inline" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML"><mrow><mi>x</mi><mo>&gt;</mo><mn>0</mn></mrow></math> and<br /><math display="inline" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML"><mrow><mi>x</mi></mrow></math> is a real person, though it doesn’t bother me<br />to write to a fictional figure or to<br /><a href="epigraph.html">a figment</a>, maybe, of my imagination. This is</p>
+            <p>connection we’ve always had, this<br /><a href="last-passenger.html">spider’s thread</a> hanging between you and me.<br />Which of us is the spider and which is<br />the fly still remains to be seen. To<br />eat, perchance to fly: all of that and<br />more. We can settle all of this later.</p>
-<p>what you are right now, anyway, <a href="real-writer.html">dear Reader</a>, is<br />it not? I’m talking about my now, of course, not later,<br />which is your now. Later will be my now too,<br />and maybe I’m ultimately writing to a future part of this<br />self: you could very well be me.<br />In fact, you probably are me, <a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">some other version</a>, and</p>
+            <p>Yes, it is you I’m thinking of in your later<br />time: you specifically, not another. This<br />is true for all <math display="inline" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML"><mrow><mi>x</mi></mrow></math> such that <math display="inline" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML"><mrow><mi>x</mi><mo>&gt;</mo><mn>0</mn></mrow></math> and<br /><math display="inline" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML"><mrow><mi>x</mi></mrow></math> is a real person, though it doesn’t bother me<br />to write to a fictional figure or to<br /><a href="epigraph.html">a figment</a>, maybe, of my imagination. This is</p>
-<p>I am you in the past, or what you could’ve been, and<br />at the same time, this isn’t true. Everything is,<br />and nothing isn’t. The difference between “you” and “me”<br />is in name only. Maybe you’ll get this later,<br /><a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">when you’re older</a>, when I’m older, when all of this<br />is something we’ll look fondly back to,</p>
+            <p>what you are right now, anyway, <a href="real-writer.html">dear Reader</a>, is<br />it not? I’m talking about my now, of course, not later,<br />which is your now. Later will be my now too,<br />and maybe I’m ultimately writing to a future part of this<br />self: you could very well be me.<br />In fact, you probably are me, <a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">some other version</a>, and</p>
-<p>because I do hope to meet you, although much later,<br />and I hope your feeling is the same. All this<br />talk on me and you and you and me we’ll keep between us two.</p></section>
+            <p>I am you in the past, or what you could’ve been, and<br />at the same time, this isn’t true. Everything is,<br />and nothing isn’t. The difference between “you” and “me”<br />is in name only. Maybe you’ll get this later,<br /><a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">when you’re older</a>, when I’m older, when all of this<br />is something we’ll look fondly back to,</p>
+            <p>because I do hope to meet you, although much later,<br />and I hope your feeling is the same. All this<br />talk on me and you and you and me we’ll keep between us two.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="big-dipper.html"
diff --git a/prelude.html b/prelude.html
index 9b4c53e..75d67d3 100644
--- a/prelude.html
+++ b/prelude.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Prelude | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="prelude" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Prelude</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Of course, <a href="boar.html">there is a God</a>. Of course, <a href="TODO_BONNIE_PRINCE_BILLIE_YOUTUBE">there is no God</a>. Of course, what’s really <a href="building.html">important</a> is that these aren’t important. No, they are; but not really important. All that’s important is the relative importance of non-important things. <a href="january.html">Shit.</a> Never mind; let’s start over.</p></section>
+        <section class="content prose">
+            <p>Of course, <a href="boar.html">there is a God</a>. Of course, <a href="TODO_BONNIE_PRINCE_BILLIE_YOUTUBE">there is no God</a>. Of course, what’s really <a href="building.html">important</a> is that these aren’t important. No, they are; but not really important. All that’s important is the relative importance of non-important things. <a href="january.html">Shit.</a> Never mind; let’s start over.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/problems.html b/problems.html
index d99ad54..4973057 100644
--- a/problems.html
+++ b/problems.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Problems | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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+<body id="problems" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Problems</h1>
@@ -40,19 +36,21 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>The problem with people is this: we cannot be happy. No matter how hard or easy we try, it is not to be. It seems sometimes that, just as the dog was made for jumping in mud and sniffing out foxholes and having a good time all around, man was made for sadness, loneliness and heartache.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Being the observant and judgmental people they are, people have for a long time tried to figure out why they aren’t happy. Some say it’s because we’re obviously doing something wrong. Some say it’s because we think too much. Some insist that it’s because other people have more stuff than we do. These people don’t have a clue any more than any of the rest of us. At least I don’t think they do, and that’s good enough for me.<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a> I think that the reason why people are unhappy (and this is a personal opinion) is that they realize on some level (for some it’s a pretty shallow level, others it’s way down there next to their love for women’s stockings<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a>) that there is no background to put themselves against, no “<a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">big picture</a>” to get painted into. This makes sense, because on one level, the level of everyday life, the level of <em>observation</em>, there is always a background—look in a pair of binoculars sometime. But on another level, that of … shit, wait. There are no other levels.<a href="#fn3" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref3"><sup>3</sup></a></p>
+            <p>The problem with people is this: we cannot be happy. No matter how hard or easy we try, it is not to be. It seems sometimes that, just as the dog was made for jumping in mud and sniffing out foxholes and having a good time all around, man was made for sadness, loneliness and heartache.</p>
-<p>What’s more, people try to explain how to get happy again (although it’s doubtful they were ever happy in the first place—people are very good at fooling). Some say standing or [sitting in a building][] with a lot of other unhappy people helps. Some say that you can’t stop there; you also need to sing with those other unhappy people about how unhappy you are, and how you wish someone would come along and help you out, I guess by giving you money or something. I say all you really need to be happy is a good stiff drink.<a href="#fn4" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref4"><sup>4</sup></a></p>
+            <p>Being the observant and judgmental people they are, people have for a long time tried to figure out why they aren’t happy. Some say it’s because we’re obviously doing something wrong. Some say it’s because we think too much. Some insist that it’s because other people have more stuff than we do. These people don’t have a clue any more than any of the rest of us. At least I don’t think they do, and that’s good enough for me.<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a> I think that the reason why people are unhappy (and this is a personal opinion) is that they realize on some level (for some it’s a pretty shallow level, others it’s way down there next to their love for women’s stockings<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a>) that there is no background to put themselves against, no “<a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">big picture</a>” to get painted into. This makes sense, because on one level, the level of everyday life, the level of <em>observation</em>, there is always a background—look in a pair of binoculars sometime. But on another level, that of … shit, wait. There are no other levels.<a href="#fn3" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref3"><sup>3</sup></a></p>
-<p>In any case, people have for some reason or another, and to some end or another, always been unhappy. And people have always tried to figure out ways to be less unhappy—one of the most important things to people everywhere is called “the pursuit of happiness.” I think that calling it a pursuit makes people feel more like dogs, who are the most happy beings most people can think of. By pursuing happiness, they’re like a dog pursuing a possum or a bone on a fishing rod: two activities that sound like a lot of fun to most people. I think most people wish they were dogs.</p>
+            <p>What’s more, people try to explain how to get happy again (although it’s doubtful they were ever happy in the first place—people are very good at fooling). Some say standing or [sitting in a building][] with a lot of other unhappy people helps. Some say that you can’t stop there; you also need to sing with those other unhappy people about how unhappy you are, and how you wish someone would come along and help you out, I guess by giving you money or something. I say all you really need to be happy is a good stiff drink.<a href="#fn4" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref4"><sup>4</sup></a></p>
-<section class="footnotes">
+            <p>In any case, people have for some reason or another, and to some end or another, always been unhappy. And people have always tried to figure out ways to be less unhappy—one of the most important things to people everywhere is called “the pursuit of happiness.” I think that calling it a pursuit makes people feel more like dogs, who are the most happy beings most people can think of. By pursuing happiness, they’re like a dog pursuing a possum or a bone on a fishing rod: two activities that sound like a lot of fun to most people. I think most people wish they were dogs.</p>
-<hr />
+            <section class="footnotes">
-<ol>
+            <hr />
-<li id="fn1"><p>This seems to be an attempt on Hezzy’s part to set an example for mankind. It should be noted that he is an alcoholic, and not in any shape to be an example to anyone.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
+            <ol>
-<li id="fn2"><p>It is thought that only the leg coverings of the female sex are here referenced<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn1"><p>This seems to be an attempt on Hezzy’s part to set an example for mankind. It should be noted that he is an alcoholic, and not in any shape to be an example to anyone.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
-<li id="fn3"><p>You have hereby found the super special secret cheat code room. Yes, this is just like Super Mario Brothers—you can skip right to the end. Go and face the final boss already!<a href="#fnref3">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn2"><p>It is thought that only the leg coverings of the female sex are here referenced<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
-<li id="fn4"><p>See footnote, above<a href="#fnref4">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn3"><p>You have hereby found the super special secret cheat code room. Yes, this is just like Super Mario Brothers—you can skip right to the end. Go and face the final boss already!<a href="#fnref3">↩</a></p></li>
-</ol>
+            <li id="fn4"><p>See footnote, above<a href="#fnref4">↩</a></p></li>
-</section></section>
+            </ol>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="movingsideways.html"
diff --git a/proverbs.html b/proverbs.html
index f673577..39d9b06 100644
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+++ b/proverbs.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Proverbs | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/hezekiah.css">
-    <script src="./js/hezekiah.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="proverbs" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Proverbs</h1>
@@ -40,14 +36,16 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><a href="words-meaning.html">Nothing matters; everything is sacred. Everything matters; nothing is sacred</a>.<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a> This is the only way we can move forward: by moving sideways. Life is a great big rugby game, and the entire field has to be run for a goal. The fact that the beginning two verses of this chapter have the same number of characters proves that they are a tautological pair, that is, they <em>complete each other</em>. Sometimes life seems like a dog wagging its tail, smiling up at you and wanting you to love it, just wanting that, simple simple love, oblivious to the fact that it just ran through your immaculately groomed flower garden and tracked all the mud in onto your freshly steamed carpet. Life is not life in a suburb. <a href="lovesong.html">There are no rosebushes, groomed never. There is no carpet, steamed at any time.</a> The dog looks at you wanting you to love it. It wants to know that you know that it’s there. <em>It wants to be observed</em>.<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a></p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<section class="footnotes">
+            <p><a href="words-meaning.html">Nothing matters; everything is sacred. Everything matters; nothing is sacred</a>.<a href="#fn1" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref1"><sup>1</sup></a> This is the only way we can move forward: by moving sideways. Life is a great big rugby game, and the entire field has to be run for a goal. The fact that the beginning two verses of this chapter have the same number of characters proves that they are a tautological pair, that is, they <em>complete each other</em>. Sometimes life seems like a dog wagging its tail, smiling up at you and wanting you to love it, just wanting that, simple simple love, oblivious to the fact that it just ran through your immaculately groomed flower garden and tracked all the mud in onto your freshly steamed carpet. Life is not life in a suburb. <a href="lovesong.html">There are no rosebushes, groomed never. There is no carpet, steamed at any time.</a> The dog looks at you wanting you to love it. It wants to know that you know that it’s there. <em>It wants to be observed</em>.<a href="#fn2" class="footnoteRef" id="fnref2"><sup>2</sup></a></p>
-<hr />
+            <section class="footnotes">
-<ol>
+            <hr />
-<li id="fn1"><p>Thank you <a href="http://www.thesatirist.com/books/CowGirlBlues.html">Tom Stoppard</a>. Ha ha ho ho and hee hee.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
+            <ol>
-<li id="fn2"><p>Ah ha! I knew this was going to happen at some point. Now things are going to get more interesting because the dog wants what we thought was a bad thing, right? Right? Didn’t we go through that part about how observing made it impossible to really know anything, and I had to start over because it’s really hard to figure out what you’re talking about when reality slips out of your hands like a fish, but you’re not a cat with claws so it just flops right outta your hand back into the lake. (By the way, Nirvana is thought to be what a drop of water feels upon flopping into a lake—doesn’t that seem important? Doesn’t it seem like a fish and a drop of water here are connected? It helps, of course, that the fish represents Reality here.)<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
+            <li id="fn1"><p>Thank you <a href="http://www.thesatirist.com/books/CowGirlBlues.html">Tom Stoppard</a>. Ha ha ho ho and hee hee.<a href="#fnref1">↩</a></p></li>
-</ol>
+            <li id="fn2"><p>Ah ha! I knew this was going to happen at some point. Now things are going to get more interesting because the dog wants what we thought was a bad thing, right? Right? Didn’t we go through that part about how observing made it impossible to really know anything, and I had to start over because it’s really hard to figure out what you’re talking about when reality slips out of your hands like a fish, but you’re not a cat with claws so it just flops right outta your hand back into the lake. (By the way, Nirvana is thought to be what a drop of water feels upon flopping into a lake—doesn’t that seem important? Doesn’t it seem like a fish and a drop of water here are connected? It helps, of course, that the fish represents Reality here.)<a href="#fnref2">↩</a></p></li>
-</section></section>
+            </ol>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="philosophy.html"
diff --git a/punch.html b/punch.html
index 12712d8..2869301 100644
--- a/punch.html
+++ b/punch.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Punch | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="punch" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Punch</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>When he finally got back to work he was surprised they threw him a party. <em><strong>WELCOME BACK PAUL!</strong></em> was written on a big banner across the back wall. Someone had ordered a confectioner’s-sugar cake with <a href="big-dipper.html">frosting flowers</a> on the corners. It said the same thing as the banner. “Welcome back, Paul” said Jill as he was at the punch bowl. The cup was on the table as he ladled punch in with his right hand. His left was wrapped in <a href="100-lines.html">gauze</a>.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Let me help you with that” said Jill. Paul had a strange feeling this had happened before. She took the ladle and their hands touched. She picked the cup up in her right hand and used her left to lift the spoon. “You know” she said “we were worried about you. When Jerry heard about your hand he said ‘There goes one of our best data entry men.’” “I still can’t really move my left hand” said Paul. “That’s alright you can take your time with the entry.” “I’m sorry.”</p>
+            <p>When he finally got back to work he was surprised they threw him a party. <em><strong>WELCOME BACK PAUL!</strong></em> was written on a big banner across the back wall. Someone had ordered a confectioner’s-sugar cake with <a href="big-dipper.html">frosting flowers</a> on the corners. It said the same thing as the banner. “Welcome back, Paul” said Jill as he was at the punch bowl. The cup was on the table as he ladled punch in with his right hand. His left was wrapped in <a href="100-lines.html">gauze</a>.</p>
-<p>“Sorry for what” she looked at his eyes. He imagined her seeing <a href="hands.html">fisheye</a> versions of herself in them. “I don’t know” he said because it was true. “It’s alright anyway” she said and placed the full punch cup in his right hand.</p></section>
+            <p>“Let me help you with that” said Jill. Paul had a strange feeling this had happened before. She took the ladle and their hands touched. She picked the cup up in her right hand and used her left to lift the spoon. “You know” she said “we were worried about you. When Jerry heard about your hand he said ‘There goes one of our best data entry men.’” “I still can’t really move my left hand” said Paul. “That’s alright you can take your time with the entry.” “I’m sorry.”</p>
+            <p>“Sorry for what” she looked at his eyes. He imagined her seeing <a href="hands.html">fisheye</a> versions of herself in them. “I don’t know” he said because it was true. “It’s alright anyway” she said and placed the full punch cup in his right hand.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="wallpaper.html"
diff --git a/purpose-dogs.html b/purpose-dogs.html
index 81f6f14..758d4dc 100644
--- a/purpose-dogs.html
+++ b/purpose-dogs.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The purpose of dogs | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-    <script src="./js/hezekiah.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="purpose-dogs" class="hezekiah">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The purpose of dogs</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Okay, so as we said in <a href="prelude.html">the Prelude</a>, there either is or isn’t a God. This has been one of the main past times of humanity, ever since … since the first man (or woman) climbed out of whatever slime or swamp he thumbed his way out of. What humanity has failed to realize is that an incredibly plausible third, and heretofore unknown, hypothesis also exists: There is a dog.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>In fact, there are many dogs, and not only that. There are also many types of dogs; these are called breeds, and each breed was created by man in order to fulfill some use that man thought he needed. Some dogs are for chasing birds, and some are for chasing badgers. Some are for laying in your lap and being petted all day. Some dogs don’t seem to be really for anything, besides being fucking stupid and chewing up your one-of-a-kind collectible individually-numbered King Kong figurine from the Peter Jackson film. But the important thing is, (and here we go with important things again) all dogs have been bred by people for performing some certain function that we think is important.</p>
+            <p>Okay, so as we said in <a href="prelude.html">the Prelude</a>, there either is or isn’t a God. This has been one of the main past times of humanity, ever since … since the first man (or woman) climbed out of whatever slime or swamp he thumbed his way out of. What humanity has failed to realize is that an incredibly plausible third, and heretofore unknown, hypothesis also exists: There is a dog.</p>
-<p>Note: <em>Just because we think it’s important doesn’t mean it is important.</em> But it might as well be, because what we as humans think is important is important. But be careful! Just because something’s important doesn’t mean it means anything, or that it actually makes anything happen. Even though just because something makes something else happen doesn’t mean it’s important. <a href="feedingtheraven.html">Shit</a>. Let me start again.</p></section>
+            <p>In fact, there are many dogs, and not only that. There are also many types of dogs; these are called breeds, and each breed was created by man in order to fulfill some use that man thought he needed. Some dogs are for chasing birds, and some are for chasing badgers. Some are for laying in your lap and being petted all day. Some dogs don’t seem to be really for anything, besides being fucking stupid and chewing up your one-of-a-kind collectible individually-numbered King Kong figurine from the Peter Jackson film. But the important thing is, (and here we go with important things again) all dogs have been bred by people for performing some certain function that we think is important.</p>
+            <p>Note: <em>Just because we think it’s important doesn’t mean it is important.</em> But it might as well be, because what we as humans think is important is important. But be careful! Just because something’s important doesn’t mean it means anything, or that it actually makes anything happen. Even though just because something makes something else happen doesn’t mean it’s important. <a href="feedingtheraven.html">Shit</a>. Let me start again.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="prelude.html"
diff --git a/question.html b/question.html
index 7ed728b..9567f2a 100644
--- a/question.html
+++ b/question.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Question | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="question" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Question</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“Do you have to say your thoughts out loud for them to mean anything” Paul asked Jill on his first coffee break at work. It was in the city and his mother told him she wouldn’t drive him so he’d had to take the bus. Number 3 he thought it was. <a href="riptide_memory.html">He couldn’t quite remember.</a> Jill said “Sorry what?” Paul realized that she hadn’t really noticed him there in the break room as he was hunched behind the refrigerator a little and she was busy pouring coffee and exactly two tablespoons of both milk and sugar into her mug before she put the coffee in. He decided to repeat the question.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“How do you think” he asked. “Like everyone else I guess” she said “I have a thought and if it’s important I write it down.” “Do you have to say them out loud for them to make sense?” “Are you asking if I talk to myself?” A pause. “I guess so” he said looking down. He had a feeling this was a bad thing. “Sometimes” she said and walked out of the break room. She didn’t understand the importance of his question. She popped her head back in a moment later and his heart leaped in his chest.</p>
+            <p>“Do you have to say your thoughts out loud for them to mean anything” Paul asked Jill on his first coffee break at work. It was in the city and his mother told him she wouldn’t drive him so he’d had to take the bus. Number 3 he thought it was. <a href="riptide_memory.html">He couldn’t quite remember.</a> Jill said “Sorry what?” Paul realized that she hadn’t really noticed him there in the break room as he was hunched behind the refrigerator a little and she was busy pouring coffee and exactly two tablespoons of both milk and sugar into her mug before she put the coffee in. He decided to repeat the question.</p>
-<p>“How’s your first day going so far” she asked. “Can you understand everything okay?” “Yes” he said “you were right it’s pretty basic.” “Good” she said. “Paul?” “Yes.” “Do you have to say all of your thoughts out loud to remember them?” He shook his head.</p>
+            <p>“How do you think” he asked. “Like everyone else I guess” she said “I have a thought and if it’s important I write it down.” “Do you have to say them out loud for them to make sense?” “Are you asking if I talk to myself?” A pause. “I guess so” he said looking down. He had a feeling this was a bad thing. “Sometimes” she said and walked out of the break room. She didn’t understand the importance of his question. She popped her head back in a moment later and his heart leaped in his chest.</p>
-<p>Only all of the time, Paul thought to himself but didn’t speak.</p></section>
+            <p>“How’s your first day going so far” she asked. “Can you understand everything okay?” “Yes” he said “you were right it’s pretty basic.” “Good” she said. “Paul?” “Yes.” “Do you have to say all of your thoughts out loud to remember them?” He shook his head.</p>
+            <p>Only all of the time, Paul thought to himself but didn’t speak.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="window.html"
diff --git a/real-writer.html b/real-writer.html
index 63d801e..75acb60 100644
--- a/real-writer.html
+++ b/real-writer.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>A real writer | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="real-writer" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">A real writer</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Sometimes I feel as though I am not a real writer.<br /><a href="cereal.html">I don’t smoke</a>. I don’t wake up early but I don’t sleep<br />all day either. I find myself increasingly interested<br />in dumb luck. Chance: I’ve found two dimes in as many<br />days. Does this mean I’ve found twenty lucky pennies?<br />I want you to participate. You the reader. You,<br />the probabilistic god of my dreams. I’ve been having<br /><a href="in-bed.html">strange dreams</a> lately. I don’t remember them but<br />they leave impressions. A bare foot. A tunnel<br />of hair from her face to mine. A boat stranded<br />in a living-room. Something warm. Something like the sun<br />through my eyelids. <a href="roughgloves.html">A hand, with all its dead symbology</a>.<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">My teeth have fallen out</a>. No, you pulled them out<br />with your hands, threw them over your left shoulder<br /><a href="i-am.html">like salt</a>, to wish away bad luck. I have something<br />to tell you: bad luck follows like a dog. It lets you<br />get ahead for a few days, a week, a year. You’ll see,<br />it’ll bite your sleeping face when you’re not looking.<br />I’ve been dreaming about the future, I know. In my dream<br />I am not a writer, <a href="riptide_memory.html">I live in a place with rain</a>. You<br />are sunning yourself as you read this, on a beach or<br />maybe a desert. Let me move in with you. I can cook<br /><a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">or clean</a> or take care of your dog while you’re out.<br />I’ll never have to write again. <a href="about-the-author.html">I’ll watch television</a>.<br />Do I want to become a writer? Tell me. Should I smoke?<br />I can sleep all day in your attic if you want, become<br /><a href="love-as-god.html">your god</a>, lose my own, settle to the bottom of the bed<br />like a boat in a river, dream about nothing but <a href="leaf.html">furniture</a>.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>Sometimes I feel as though I am not a real writer.<br /><a href="cereal.html">I don’t smoke</a>. I don’t wake up early but I don’t sleep<br />all day either. I find myself increasingly interested<br />in dumb luck. Chance: I’ve found two dimes in as many<br />days. Does this mean I’ve found twenty lucky pennies?<br />I want you to participate. You the reader. You,<br />the probabilistic god of my dreams. I’ve been having<br /><a href="in-bed.html">strange dreams</a> lately. I don’t remember them but<br />they leave impressions. A bare foot. A tunnel<br />of hair from her face to mine. A boat stranded<br />in a living-room. Something warm. Something like the sun<br />through my eyelids. <a href="roughgloves.html">A hand, with all its dead symbology</a>.<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">My teeth have fallen out</a>. No, you pulled them out<br />with your hands, threw them over your left shoulder<br /><a href="i-am.html">like salt</a>, to wish away bad luck. I have something<br />to tell you: bad luck follows like a dog. It lets you<br />get ahead for a few days, a week, a year. You’ll see,<br />it’ll bite your sleeping face when you’re not looking.<br />I’ve been dreaming about the future, I know. In my dream<br />I am not a writer, <a href="riptide_memory.html">I live in a place with rain</a>. You<br />are sunning yourself as you read this, on a beach or<br />maybe a desert. Let me move in with you. I can cook<br /><a href="when-im-sorry-i.html">or clean</a> or take care of your dog while you’re out.<br />I’ll never have to write again. <a href="about-the-author.html">I’ll watch television</a>.<br />Do I want to become a writer? Tell me. Should I smoke?<br />I can sleep all day in your attic if you want, become<br /><a href="love-as-god.html">your god</a>, lose my own, settle to the bottom of the bed<br />like a boat in a river, dream about nothing but <a href="leaf.html">furniture</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/reports.html b/reports.html
index 762a4d8..4351114 100644
--- a/reports.html
+++ b/reports.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Reports | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="reports" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Reports</h1>
@@ -40,14 +36,16 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“Paul, you can’t turn in your reports on four-by-six notecards” Jill told him after he handed her his reports, typed carefully on twelve four-by-six notecards. He had spent the weekend</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<ol type="1">
+            <p>“Paul, you can’t turn in your reports on four-by-six notecards” Jill told him after he handed her his reports, typed carefully on twelve four-by-six notecards. He had spent the weekend</p>
-<li>going to the Office Supply Store to buy notecards and typewriter ribbon (he found it surprisingly easily) after his first payday</li>
+            <ol type="1">
-<li>replacing the ribbon in his typewriter (this took approximately half an hour, because he had to figure it all out on his own)</li>
+            <li>going to the Office Supply Store to buy notecards and typewriter ribbon (he found it surprisingly easily) after his first payday</li>
-<li>opening the package of notecards (this took approximately four seconds, although he still had to figure out how to do it on his own. It was just easier)</li>
+            <li>replacing the ribbon in his typewriter (this took approximately half an hour, because he had to figure it all out on his own)</li>
-<li>carefully typing the reports he’d handwritten on letter paper onto the notecards (he made many mistakes and threw away many notecards, though later he used them for kindling)</li>
+            <li>opening the package of notecards (this took approximately four seconds, although he still had to figure out how to do it on his own. It was just easier)</li>
-</ol>
+            <li>carefully typing the reports he’d handwritten on letter paper onto the notecards (he made many mistakes and threw away many notecards, though later he used them for kindling)</li>
-<p>so understandably he was upset. He told Jill all the work he’d gone to to type those notecard reports for her, for the company. <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">She shook her head.</a> “Paul, you don’t have to do all that work at home. Just type it up on the computers here, that’s all you need to do. Thanks for the work though.” He nodded as she threw the notecards into the trashcan and left his cubicle.</p></section>
+            </ol>
+            <p>so understandably he was upset. He told Jill all the work he’d gone to to type those notecard reports for her, for the company. <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">She shook her head.</a> “Paul, you don’t have to do all that work at home. Just type it up on the computers here, that’s all you need to do. Thanks for the work though.” He nodded as she threw the notecards into the trashcan and left his cubicle.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="snow.html"
diff --git a/riptide_memory.html b/riptide_memory.html
index 747e7ca..93718fc 100644
--- a/riptide_memory.html
+++ b/riptide_memory.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Riptide of memory | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="riptide_memory" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Riptide of memory</h1>
@@ -40,12 +36,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Inside of my memory, the poem is another memory.<br />The air up here is thin, but the wind blows harder<br />than anywhere else I know. It threatens to rip<br />my body away, like <a href="angeltoabraham.html">an angel of death</a>, to the stars.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>In Arizona, I thought I would forget the rain,<br />forget its sound on a roof like a hard wind, forget<br />its smell like a far away ocean. Luckily for me<br />it rains here. Luckily, because I forget too easily.</p>
+            <p>Inside of my memory, the poem is another memory.<br />The air up here is thin, but the wind blows harder<br />than anywhere else I know. It threatens to rip<br />my body away, like <a href="angeltoabraham.html">an angel of death</a>, to the stars.</p>
-<p>In a dream, <a href="father.html">my father is caught by a riptide</a> off-shore.<br />He’s pulled far out, far enough that the shoreline’s<br />a line in his <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">memory</a> on the horizon. I can see him<br />swimming, hand over hand, pulling his small weight</p>
+            <p>In Arizona, I thought I would forget the rain,<br />forget its sound on a roof like a hard wind, forget<br />its smell like a far away ocean. Luckily for me<br />it rains here. Luckily, because I forget too easily.</p>
-<p>back to land. I see him as <a href="shipwright.html">another shipwreck</a> victim,<br />coughing sand and seawater, beard woven with seaweed.<br />I see him laying there a long time. I see all this<br />as he tells me the story, years later, the riptide</p>
+            <p>In a dream, <a href="father.html">my father is caught by a riptide</a> off-shore.<br />He’s pulled far out, far enough that the shoreline’s<br />a line in his <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">memory</a> on the horizon. I can see him<br />swimming, hand over hand, pulling his small weight</p>
-<p>only a <a href="100-lines.html">ghost</a> in his memory, I only a child falling<br />asleep. My mother’s making mayonnaise rolls<br />in the kitchen, a recipe I’ll send for years later,<br />in Arizona, in the monsoon season, when my thirst</p>
+            <p>back to land. I see him as <a href="shipwright.html">another shipwreck</a> victim,<br />coughing sand and seawater, beard woven with seaweed.<br />I see him laying there a long time. I see all this<br />as he tells me the story, years later, the riptide</p>
-<p>pulls me back home, my memory’s lonesome twinkle<br />like <a href="finding-the-lion.html">stars above the mountains</a>. I’ll send for it<br />and try to make them, but in the thin air they’ll<br />crumble into dust like desert air, like a memory.</p></section>
+            <p>only a <a href="100-lines.html">ghost</a> in his memory, I only a child falling<br />asleep. My mother’s making mayonnaise rolls<br />in the kitchen, a recipe I’ll send for years later,<br />in Arizona, in the monsoon season, when my thirst</p>
+            <p>pulls me back home, my memory’s lonesome twinkle<br />like <a href="finding-the-lion.html">stars above the mountains</a>. I’ll send for it<br />and try to make them, but in the thin air they’ll<br />crumble into dust like desert air, like a memory.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="music-433.html"
diff --git a/river/100-lines.river b/river/100-lines.river
index 93055f9..547d877 100644
--- a/river/100-lines.river
+++ b/river/100-lines.river

@@ -1,5 +1,20 @@
+title
 100
 lines
+id
+100-lines
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 whenever
 you
 call
@@ -46,6 +61,7 @@ tell
 you
 something
 anything
+tell-you
 but
 you
 are
@@ -59,6 +75,7 @@ are
 trapped
 inside
 ourselves
+trapped
 and
 the
 distance
@@ -232,6 +249,7 @@ over
 the
 high
 mountain
+mountain
 far
 away
 that
@@ -293,6 +311,7 @@ heart
 breaking
 his
 chest
+heart
 thumping
 with
 the
@@ -416,10 +435,13 @@ in
 rags
 we
 want
+want1
 we
 want
+want2
 we
 want
+want3
 but
 never
 can
@@ -598,6 +620,7 @@ fields
 in
 his
 yoke
+yoke
 i'm
 as
 dull
@@ -624,3 +647,72 @@ me
 you're
 watching
 tv
+hook
+shot
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
+tell-you
+lovesong
+html
+trapped
+howtoread
+html
+would
+be
+nothing
+no-nothing
+html
+nightmares
+in-bed
+html
+letter
+is
+for
+you
+poetry-time
+html
+no
+trees
+plant
+html
+mountain
+mountain
+html
+heart
+moon-drowning
+html
+little
+dog
+too
+https
+www
+youtube
+com
+watch
+v
+jupxmlz2hym
+want1
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+html
+want2
+fire
+html
+want3
+lovesong
+html
+plums
+http
+www
+poetryfoundation
+org
+poem
+245576
+braying
+of
+horses
+table
+contents
+html
+yoke
+last-passenger
+html
diff --git a/river/README.river b/river/README.river
index e69de29..ddc8c31 100644
--- a/river/README.river
+++ b/river/README.river

@@ -0,0 +1,1154 @@
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+id
+readme
+subtitle
+about
+this
+site
+genre
+prose
+epigraph
+content
+by
+case
+duckworth
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
+introduction
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+is
+a
+hypertextual
+exploration
+of
+the
+workings
+of
+revision
+across
+time
+somebody
+citation
+needed
+once
+said
+that
+every
+relationship
+we
+have
+is
+part
+of
+the
+same
+relationship
+the
+same
+is
+true
+of
+authorship
+as
+we
+write
+as
+we
+continue
+writing
+across
+our
+lives
+patterns
+thread
+themselves
+through
+our
+work
+images
+certain
+phrases
+preoccupations
+this
+project
+attempts
+to
+make
+those
+threads
+more
+apparent
+using
+the
+technology
+of
+hypertext
+i'm
+also
+an
+mfa
+candidate
+at
+northern
+arizona
+university
+nau
+this
+is
+my
+thesis
+genesis
+this
+project
+revolves
+around
+two
+sister
+concepts
+the
+hapax
+legomenon
+and
+the
+cento
+hapax
+legomenon
+is
+greek
+for
+something
+said
+only
+once
+it's
+used
+in
+linguistics
+to
+describe
+words
+that
+appear
+only
+once
+in
+a
+corpus
+if
+expanded
+to
+n-grams
+it
+can
+be
+used
+to
+describe
+utterances
+that
+occur
+only
+once
+and
+this
+is
+where
+it
+gets
+interesting
+if
+this
+line
+of
+thinking
+is
+taken
+to
+its
+logical
+conclusion
+we
+can
+say
+that
+all
+writing
+all
+utterances
+are
+hapax
+legomena
+because
+they
+appear
+only
+once
+in
+the
+world
+as
+they
+are
+in
+short
+everything
+is
+individual
+everything
+is
+differentiated
+everything
+is
+an
+island
+on
+the
+other
+hand
+a
+cento
+from
+the
+latin
+from
+the
+greek
+meaning
+patchwork
+garment
+is
+a
+poem
+composed
+completely
+of
+fragments
+of
+other
+poems
+it's
+a
+mash-up
+that
+makes
+up
+for
+its
+lack
+of
+originality
+in
+utterance
+with
+a
+novelty
+in
+arrangement
+usually
+it
+refers
+to
+taking
+phrases
+lines
+or
+stanzas
+from
+other
+authors
+works
+but
+i
+don't
+see
+why
+it
+couldn't
+refer
+to
+n-grams
+or
+individual
+words
+if
+this
+line
+of
+thinking
+is
+taken
+to
+its
+logical
+conclusion
+we
+can
+say
+that
+no
+writing
+is
+truly
+original
+that
+every
+utterance
+has
+in
+some
+scrambled
+way
+at
+least
+been
+uttered
+before
+in
+other
+words
+nothing
+is
+individual
+we
+float
+on
+an
+ocean
+of
+language
+which
+we
+did
+nothing
+to
+create
+and
+the
+best
+we
+can
+hope
+for
+is
+to
+find
+some
+combination
+that
+hasn't
+been
+thought
+of
+too
+many
+times
+before
+as
+solomon
+said
+there
+is
+nothing
+new
+under
+the
+sun
+nothing-new
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+works
+within
+the
+tension
+caused
+by
+these
+two
+concepts
+process
+in
+compiling
+the
+works
+that
+make
+up
+this
+text
+i've
+pulled
+from
+a
+few
+different
+projects
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+and
+html
+the
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+prelude
+html
+stark
+raving
+table
+contents
+html
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+art
+html
+as
+well
+as
+added
+new
+articles
+written
+quite
+recently
+as
+i've
+compiled
+them
+into
+this
+project
+i've
+linked
+them
+together
+based
+on
+common
+images
+or
+language
+moving
+back
+and
+forth
+through
+time
+this
+should
+give
+the
+reader
+a
+fair
+idea
+of
+what
+my
+head
+looks
+like
+on
+the
+inside
+technology
+because
+this
+project
+lives
+online
+i've
+used
+a
+fair
+amount
+of
+technology
+to
+get
+it
+there
+first
+i
+converted
+all
+the
+articles
+1
+present
+into
+plain
+text
+files
+which
+are
+viewable
+here
+text
+then
+i
+used
+john
+mcfarlane's
+venerable
+document
+preparation
+system
+pandoc
+along
+with
+a
+short
+script
+compile
+lua
+to
+compile
+the
+text
+sources
+to
+html
+using
+this
+template
+the
+compiled
+html
+is
+what
+you're
+reading
+now
+2
+to
+host
+the
+project
+i'm
+using
+github
+an
+online
+code-collaboration
+tool
+with
+the
+version
+control
+system
+git
+under
+the
+hood
+this
+enables
+me
+and
+you
+dear
+reader
+to
+explore
+the
+path
+of
+revision
+even
+more
+from
+beginning
+to
+end
+based
+on
+my
+commits
+to
+the
+repository
+you
+can
+view
+the
+repository
+and
+its
+changes
+and
+files
+at
+my
+github
+profile
+3
+using
+this
+site
+all
+of
+the
+articles
+on
+this
+site
+are
+linked
+together
+hypertextually
+i
+e
+like
+a
+webpage
+this
+means
+that
+all
+you
+need
+to
+do
+to
+explore
+the
+creative
+threads
+linking
+these
+articles
+together
+is
+to
+start
+clicking
+links
+however
+if
+you
+find
+you're
+looping
+around
+to
+a
+lot
+of
+the
+same
+articles
+you
+can
+head
+back
+to
+the
+index
+and
+click
+through
+the
+titles
+in
+order
+that
+article
+contains
+the
+titles
+of
+all
+the
+other
+works
+in
+this
+project
+alternatively
+you
+can
+click
+the
+lozenge
+loz
+at
+the
+bottom
+of
+each
+page
+it'll
+take
+you
+to
+a
+random
+article
+in
+the
+project
+thanks
+to
+this
+javascript
+if
+you
+want
+to
+experience
+the
+earlier
+projects
+in
+something
+resembling
+the
+original
+orders
+previous
+and
+next
+links
+are
+provided
+at
+the
+bottom
+of
+each
+page
+next
+to
+the
+lozenge
+sometimes
+there
+are
+more
+than
+one
+of
+each
+of
+these
+or
+there
+are
+none
+dependant
+on
+the
+structure
+of
+their
+original
+project
+things
+still
+to
+do
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+is
+a
+work
+in
+progress
+the
+first
+draft
+is
+completed
+but
+some
+revision
+and
+aesthetic
+work
+remains
+to
+be
+done
+for
+me
+to
+consider
+it
+fully
+published
+what
+does
+this
+word
+mean
+in
+2015
+you
+can
+see
+the
+full
+list
+of
+to-dos
+by
+visiting
+the
+issues
+page
+issues
+of
+the
+github
+site
+contact
+me
+if
+you'd
+like
+to
+contact
+me
+about
+the
+state
+of
+this
+work
+or
+my
+writing
+in
+general
+you
+can
+email
+me
+at
+case
+autocento
+me
+links
+footnotes
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+http
+www
+ibiblio
+org
+eldritch
+owh
+abt
+html
+citation
+needed
+https
+en
+wikipedia
+org
+wiki
+wikipedia
+citing
+sources
+dealing
+with
+unsourced
+material
+nau
+http
+nau
+edu
+cal
+english
+degrees-programs
+graduate
+mfa
+http
+www
+perseus
+tufts
+edu
+hopper
+text
+doc
+perseus
+text
+1999
+04
+0057
+entry
+a
+28
+pac
+nothing-new
+https
+www
+biblegateway
+com
+passage
+search
+ecclesiastes
+1
+3a9
+version
+niv
+text
+src
+common-titles
+html
+pandoc
+http
+johnmacfarlane
+net
+pandoc
+compile
+lua
+https
+github
+com
+duckwork
+autocento
+blob
+gh-pages
+compile
+lua
+this
+template
+https
+github
+com
+duckwork
+autocento
+blob
+gh-pages
+template
+html
+github
+https
+github
+com
+git
+http
+www
+git-scm
+com
+my
+github
+profile
+https
+github
+com
+duckwork
+autocento
+index
+first-lines
+html
+this
+javascript
+https
+github
+com
+duckwork
+autocento
+blob
+gh-pages
+js
+lozenge
+js
+published
+published
+html
+issues
+https
+github
+com
+duckwork
+autocento
+issues
+1
+i've
+decided
+to
+use
+the
+word
+article
+instead
+of
+poem
+because
+not
+all
+of
+the
+texts
+included
+are
+poems
+and
+instead
+of
+piece
+because
+piece
+is
+vague
+and
+to
+my
+mind
+pretentious
+i'm
+aware
+that
+the
+true
+etymology
+http
+www
+etymonline
+com
+index
+php
+search
+article
+of
+article
+does
+not
+reflect
+my
+use
+of
+it
+namely
+a
+little
+chunk
+of
+art
+a
+la
+the
+personal
+folk
+derivation
+of
+icicle
+treicle
+etc
+2
+the
+great
+thing
+about
+pandoc
+is
+that
+it
+can
+compile
+to
+and
+convert
+between
+about
+fifty
+formats
+or
+so
+this
+means
+that
+if
+in
+the
+future
+i
+choose
+to
+convert
+this
+project
+to
+a
+printable
+form
+for
+example
+pdf
+odt
+or
+even
+docx
+i'll
+be
+able
+to
+with
+a
+fairly
+small
+amount
+of
+work
+3
+for
+more
+information
+on
+the
+technological
+aspect
+of
+this
+project
+see
+the
+readme
+md
+https
+github
+com
+duckwork
+autocento
+blob
+gh-pages
+readme
+md
+file
+at
+the
+root
+of
+the
+github
+repo
diff --git a/river/about-the-author.river b/river/about-the-author.river
index 7af569d..95c2b3c 100644
--- a/river/about-the-author.river
+++ b/river/about-the-author.river

@@ -1,8 +1,68 @@
+title
 about
 the
 author
+id
+about-the-author
+subtitle
 not
 pictured
+genre
+prose
+epigraph
+content
+the
+body
+that
+surrounds
+him
+is
+his
+but
+his
+insides
+are
+not
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+19
+prev
+title
+something
+about
+all
+music
+being
+performances
+of
+4
+prime
+33
+prime
+in
+places
+where
+other
+bands
+happen
+to
+be
+playing
+link
+music-433
+title
+riptide
+of
+memory
+link
+riptide
+memory
 he
 was
 born
@@ -24,19 +84,19 @@ of
 his
 conception
 a
-wintery
-affair
-saved
-for
-those
-involved
-a
 tv
 in
 front
 of
 a
 dumpster
+a
+wintery
+affair
+saved
+for
+those
+involved
 the
 day
 he
@@ -48,15 +108,15 @@ dark
 tunnel
 of
 nothing
-his
-mother's
-womb
 surprise
 photo
 of
 you
 at
 walgreen's
+his
+mother's
+womb
 the
 founding
 of
@@ -69,15 +129,6 @@ by
 the
 small
 builders
-alien
-as
-they
-were
-and
-still
-somehow
-intimately
-familiar
 a
 pink
 dress
@@ -87,6 +138,15 @@ alley
 behind
 your
 house
+alien
+as
+they
+were
+and
+still
+somehow
+intimately
+familiar
 like
 any
 city
@@ -100,20 +160,6 @@ the
 fever
 of
 1994
-was
-especially
-devastating
-but
-they
-were
-a
-hardy
-folk
-not
-much
-given
-to
-flight
 me
 buying
 a
@@ -124,11 +170,20 @@ cup
 for
 a
 child
+was
+especially
+devastating
 whose
 family
 couldn't
 afford
 it
+but
+they
+were
+a
+hardy
+folk
 in
 front
 of
@@ -137,6 +192,11 @@ in
 line
 at
 safeway
+not
+much
+given
+to
+flight
 as
 all
 things
@@ -149,28 +209,28 @@ began
 slowly
 to
 decay
+trees
+at
+night
+their
+skeletons
 the
 old
 ones
 claimed
 the
 young
+revealed
+by
+a
+camera
+flash
 had
 no
 respect
 for
 culture
 anymore
-trees
-at
-night
-their
-skeletons
-revealed
-by
-a
-camera
-flash
 they
 began
 to
@@ -182,11 +242,6 @@ quickly
 than
 being
 born
-the
-end
-was
-coming
-closer
 two
 earthworms
 on
@@ -194,6 +249,11 @@ pavement
 after
 a
 rain
+the
+end
+was
+coming
+closer
 as
 the
 last
@@ -230,3 +290,68 @@ and
 walking
 it
 off
+two
+earthworms
+on
+pavement
+after
+a
+rain
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+he
+was
+born
+sixteenth-chapel
+html
+a
+tv
+in
+front
+of
+a
+dumpster
+options
+html
+his
+mother's
+womb
+death-zone
+html
+green
+traffic
+lights
+stayed-on-the-bus
+html
+pink
+dress
+in
+the
+alley
+in-bed
+html
+in
+front
+of
+me
+in
+line
+at
+safeway
+last-bastion
+html
+old
+ones
+claimed
+the
+young
+creation-myth
+html
+last
+breath
+last-passenger
+html
+four-wheeler
+deadman
+html
diff --git a/river/about_author.river b/river/about_author.river
index dc790d2..b3f6fc1 100644
--- a/river/about_author.river
+++ b/river/about_author.river

@@ -1,6 +1,22 @@
+title
 about
 case
 duckworth
+id
+about
+author
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 case
 duckworth
 is
@@ -225,3 +241,21 @@ dismay
 of
 fans
 everywhere
+venture
+capitalists
+love-as-god
+html
+don
+messick
+http
+www
+behindthevoiceactors
+com
+don-messick
+frank
+welker
+http
+www
+behindthevoiceactors
+com
+frank-welker
diff --git a/river/amber-alert.river b/river/amber-alert.river
index b3659e2..ad862a6 100644
--- a/river/amber-alert.river
+++ b/river/amber-alert.river

@@ -1,5 +1,82 @@
+title
 amber
 alert
+id
+amber-alert
+genre
+prose
+epigraph
+content
+apparently
+it
+does
+nothing
+link
+http
+www
+boston
+com
+bostonglobe
+ideas
+articles
+2008
+07
+20
+abducted
+page
+full
+ekphrastic
+image
+amber
+jpg
+title
+amber
+hagerman
+link
+https
+en
+wikipedia
+org
+wiki
+amber
+alert
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+6
+next
+title
+exasperated
+link
+exasperated
+title
+the
+death
+zone
+link
+death-zone
+prev
+title
+last
+bastion
+link
+last-bastion
+title
+something
+about
+the
+nature
+of
+poetry
+and
+time
+link
+poetry-time
 lost
 things
 have
@@ -75,3 +152,19 @@ should
 try
 another
 door
+lost
+things
+lappel-du-vide
+staying
+lost
+http
+www
+poetryfoundation
+org
+poem
+176996
+try
+another
+door
+statements-frag
+html
diff --git a/river/and.river b/river/and.river
index 8b7c092..bde4433 100644
--- a/river/and.river
+++ b/river/and.river

@@ -1,4 +1,60 @@
+title
 and
+id
+and
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+what
+is
+your
+favorite
+word
+and
+it
+is
+so
+hopeful
+attrib
+margaret
+atwood
+link
+http
+www
+theguardian
+com
+lifeandstyle
+2011
+oct
+28
+margaret-atwood-q-a
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+3
+next
+title
+words
+and
+meaning
+link
+words-meaning
+prev
+title
+how
+to
+read
+this
+link
+howtoread
 and
 you
 were
@@ -172,3 +228,17 @@ at
 something
 he
 said
+church
+boar
+html
+grieving
+something
+gone
+roughgloves
+html
+hands
+like
+little
+doves
+cold-wind
+html
diff --git a/river/angeltoabraham.river b/river/angeltoabraham.river
index b02ed69..5d20199 100644
--- a/river/angeltoabraham.river
+++ b/river/angeltoabraham.river

@@ -1,7 +1,36 @@
+title
 the
 angel
 to
 abraham
+id
+angeltoabraham
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+10
+prev
+title
+dead
+man
+link
+deadman
+next
+title
+feeding
+the
+raven
+link
+feedingtheraven
 abraham
 abraham
 you
@@ -146,3 +175,10 @@ of
 a
 passing
 ram
+god
+boar
+html
+will
+try
+i-am
+html
diff --git a/river/apollo11.river b/river/apollo11.river
index 7f878d0..f8fd2b3 100644
--- a/river/apollo11.river
+++ b/river/apollo11.river

@@ -1,3 +1,5 @@
+title
 on
 seeing
 the
@@ -8,6 +10,47 @@ apollo
 11
 landing
 site
+id
+apollo11
+genre
+verse
+ekphrastic
+image
+img
+panorama-apollo11
+jpg
+title
+big
+deal
+link
+http
+apod
+nasa
+gov
+apod
+ap141220
+html
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+5
+next
+title
+ars
+poetica
+link
+arspoetica
+prev
+title
+and
+link
+and
 so
 it's
 the
@@ -188,3 +231,14 @@ empty
 sky
 at
 dawn
+fucking
+moon
+deathstrumpet
+html
+rotten
+meat
+roughgloves
+html
+hearts
+proverbs
+html
diff --git a/river/arspoetica.river b/river/arspoetica.river
index 9941cdf..192d5d0 100644
--- a/river/arspoetica.river
+++ b/river/arspoetica.river

@@ -1,10 +1,50 @@
+title
 ars
 poetica
+id
+arspoetica
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+6
+prev
+title
+on
+seeing
+the
+panorama
+of
+the
+apollo
+11
+landing
+site
+link
+apollo11
+next
+title
+the
+ocean
+overflows
+with
+camels
+link
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
 what
 is
 poetry
 poetry
 is
+is
 inasmuch
 as
 life
@@ -378,3 +418,9 @@ on
 this
 crime-ridden
 earth
+is
+words-meaning
+html
+mirror
+moongone
+html
diff --git a/river/art.river b/river/art.river
index e9bbc6a..2fbed37 100644
--- a/river/art.river
+++ b/river/art.river

@@ -1,4 +1,33 @@
+title
 art
+id
+art
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+1
+next
+title
+hymnal
+link
+hymnal
+title
+axe
+link
+axe
 paul
 was
 writing
@@ -172,3 +201,26 @@ music
 is
 not
 art
+this
+is
+my
+brain
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+i
+contain
+multitudes
+said
+legion
+todo
+bible
+link
+white
+space
+sense-of-it
+html
+cover
+version
+music-433
+html
diff --git a/river/axe.river b/river/axe.river
index ff9609c..d1efd2c 100644
--- a/river/axe.river
+++ b/river/axe.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 axe
+id
+axe
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+5
+next
+title
+leaf
+link
+leaf
+title
+building
+link
+building
+prev
+title
+dream
+link
+dream
+title
+art
+link
+art
 paul
 took
 his
@@ -189,3 +227,20 @@ of
 the
 forest
 quiet
+he
+imagined
+he
+had
+a
+beard
+riptide
+memory
+html
+october
+january
+html
+small
+dark
+sound
+last-bastion
+html
diff --git a/river/big-dipper.river b/river/big-dipper.river
index d6ca632..28f1deb 100644
--- a/river/big-dipper.river
+++ b/river/big-dipper.river

@@ -1,6 +1,53 @@
+title
 the
 big
 dipper
+id
+big-dipper
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+2
+next
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+drowning
+link
+moon-drowning
+title
+something
+about
+the
+nature
+of
+poetry
+and
+time
+link
+poetry-time
+prev
+title
+the
+death
+zone
+link
+death-zone
+title
+table
+of
+contents
+link
+table
+contents
 after
 searching
 for
@@ -176,3 +223,31 @@ back
 of
 the
 mountain
+above
+the
+peaks
+finding-the-lion
+html
+like
+a
+quiet
+river
+across
+the
+earth
+no-nothing
+html
+no
+it
+says
+that
+is
+too
+easy
+http
+www
+poets
+org
+poetsorg
+poem
+writer
diff --git a/river/boar.river b/river/boar.river
index 0f82c1b..4d5eb09 100644
--- a/river/boar.river
+++ b/river/boar.river

@@ -1,5 +1,36 @@
+title
 the
 boar
+id
+boar
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+8
+prev
+title
+the
+ocean
+overflows
+with
+camels
+link
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+next
+title
+dead
+man
+link
+deadman
 now
 the
 ticking
@@ -97,3 +128,13 @@ a
 note
 saying
 condemned
+empty
+mountain
+html
+fifteen
+feet
+telemarketer
+html
+house
+i-am
+html
diff --git a/river/boy_bus.river b/river/boy_bus.river
index a462813..18d901c 100644
--- a/river/boy_bus.river
+++ b/river/boy_bus.river

@@ -1,7 +1,49 @@
+title
 boy
 on
 the
 bus
+id
+boy
+bus
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+9
+next
+title
+i
+think
+it's
+you
+but
+it's
+not
+link
+i-think-its-you
+title
+last
+bastion
+link
+last-bastion
+prev
+title
+l'appel
+du
+vide
+link
+lappel-du-vide
+title
+exasperated
+link
+exasperated
 when
 he
 said
@@ -170,3 +212,34 @@ didn't
 know
 at
 all
+its
+face
+has
+been
+obscured
+by
+clouds
+moongone
+html
+one
+night
+on
+my
+birthday
+the
+moon
+was
+so
+strong
+it
+cast
+shadows
+in-bed
+html
+moon
+face
+moon-drowning
+html
+bible
+mountain
+html
diff --git a/river/building.river b/river/building.river
index 0f6f38b..bd5764e 100644
--- a/river/building.river
+++ b/river/building.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 building
+id
+building
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+28
+next
+title
+yellow
+link
+yellow
+title
+cereal
+link
+cereal
+prev
+title
+stagnant
+link
+stagnant
+title
+axe
+link
+axe
 art
 and
 craft
@@ -70,7 +108,6 @@ future
 person
 the
 reader
-/
 viewer
 the
 important
@@ -226,3 +263,43 @@ is
 our
 only
 art
+art
+and
+craft
+toilet
+html
+chair
+boar
+html
+message
+to
+a
+future
+person
+poetry-time
+html
+we
+have
+to
+try
+plant
+html
+our
+buildings
+of
+air
+common-titles
+html
+photographs
+man
+html
+memory
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+act
+of
+memory
+riptide
+memory
+html
diff --git a/river/call-me-aural-pleasure.river b/river/call-me-aural-pleasure.river
index 5bf9f72..c715e38 100644
--- a/river/call-me-aural-pleasure.river
+++ b/river/call-me-aural-pleasure.river

@@ -1,7 +1,38 @@
+title
 call
 me
+id
+call-me-aural-pleasure
+subtitle
 aural
 pleasure
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+compiled
+thru
+facebook
+statuses
+of
+the
+author
+link
+https
+www
+facebook
+com
+kittensruleforever38
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 like
 40
 as
@@ -133,10 +164,10 @@ not
 sure
 that
 ben
-&
 jerry's
 ftw
-4/10
+4
+10
 would
 not
 be
@@ -253,3 +284,49 @@ not
 to
 produce
 photographs
+word
+from
+yarn
+roughgloves
+html
+i
+am
+2
+we
+can
+be
+kissed
+spittle
+html
+but
+the
+train
+one
+http
+www
+ugcs
+caltech
+edu
+deepthi
+if
+on
+a
+winter
+27s
+night
+a
+traveler
+html
+hijack
+my
+hand
+x-ray
+html
+meacham
+stuff
+http
+www
+meachamwriters
+org
+index
+htm
diff --git a/river/cereal.river b/river/cereal.river
index bb54133..fcc9e69 100644
--- a/river/cereal.river
+++ b/river/cereal.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 cereal
+id
+cereal
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+21
+next
+title
+man
+link
+man
+title
+dream
+link
+dream
+prev
+title
+sapling
+link
+sapling
+title
+building
+link
+building
 he
 woke
 up
@@ -253,3 +291,14 @@ out
 on
 the
 ceiling
+outside
+time-looks-up-to-the-sky
+html
+laundry
+underwear
+html
+thread
+of
+smoke
+last-passenger
+html
diff --git a/river/cold-wind.river b/river/cold-wind.river
index 77674aa..adc7bd1 100644
--- a/river/cold-wind.river
+++ b/river/cold-wind.river

@@ -1,5 +1,22 @@
+title
 cold
 wind
+id
+cold-wind
+genre
+verse
+dedication
+justin
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 man
 of
 autumn
@@ -69,3 +86,33 @@ gone
 as
 the
 birds
+man
+of
+autumn
+january
+html
+fire
+on
+the
+ground
+fire
+html
+of
+black
+birds
+i-think-its-you
+html
+in
+a
+froth
+of
+hands
+when-im-sorry-i
+html
+to
+the
+ocean
+of
+air
+lappel-du-vide
+html
diff --git a/river/collage-instrument.river b/river/collage-instrument.river
index 52f7212..d0b3b45 100644
--- a/river/collage-instrument.river
+++ b/river/collage-instrument.river

@@ -1,6 +1,22 @@
+title
 instrumented
+id
+collage-instrument
+subtitle
 a
 collage
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 tr
 has
 been
@@ -719,9 +735,11 @@ regex
 nuances
 between
 it
-sed's
+sed
+s
 and
-perl's
+perl
+s
 there
 is
 a
@@ -830,3 +848,86 @@ barefoot
 those
 forty
 days
+tr
+http
+man
+cx
+tr
+sed
+http
+man
+cx
+sed
+wind
+blows
+hard
+up
+here
+cold-wind
+html
+pick
+me
+up
+like
+an
+angel
+lappel-du-vide
+html
+rolls
+is
+mayonnaise
+riptide
+memory
+html
+shoe
+event
+horizon
+http
+www
+voxday
+blogspot
+com
+2015
+02
+mailvox-marxism-and-shoe-event-horizon
+html
+into
+birds
+statements-frag
+html
+awk
+http
+man
+cx
+awk
+perl
+http
+www
+perl
+org
+blank
+brick
+wall
+building
+html
+without
+our
+memory
+we
+are
+nothing
+early
+html
+grep
+http
+man
+cx
+grep
+he
+goes
+barefoot
+those
+forty
+days
+leg
+html
diff --git a/river/common-titles.river b/river/common-titles.river
index e69de29..2283cad 100644
--- a/river/common-titles.river
+++ b/river/common-titles.river

@@ -0,0 +1,734 @@
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+id
+common-titles
+subtitle
+index
+of
+common
+titles
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+read
+me
+link
+readme
+html
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
+100
+lines
+100-lines
+html
+about
+the
+author
+about-the-author
+html
+case
+duckworth
+about
+author
+html
+nee
+amber
+alert
+amber-alert
+html
+and
+and
+html
+the
+angel
+to
+abraham
+angeltoabraham
+html
+on
+seeing
+the
+panorama
+of
+the
+apollo
+11
+landing
+site
+apollo11
+html
+ars
+poetica
+arspoetica
+html
+art
+art
+html
+an
+axe
+axe
+html
+the
+big
+dipper
+big-dipper
+html
+and
+the
+boar
+boar
+html
+the
+boy
+on
+the
+bus
+boy
+bus
+html
+is
+building
+building
+html
+call
+me
+call-me-aural-pleasure
+html
+cereal
+cereal
+html
+or
+cold
+wind
+cold-wind
+html
+instrument
+collage-instrumented
+html
+a
+collage
+creation
+myth
+creation-myth
+html
+dead
+man
+deadman
+html
+the
+death
+zone
+death-zone
+html
+death's
+trumpet
+deathstrumpet
+html
+dream
+dream
+html
+early
+early
+html
+elegy
+for
+an
+alternate
+self
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
+an
+epigraph
+epigraph
+html
+ex
+machina
+ex-machina
+html
+and
+exasperated
+exasperated
+html
+father
+father
+html
+feeding
+the
+raven
+feedingtheraven
+html
+finding
+the
+lion
+finding-the-lion
+html
+setting
+a
+fire
+fire
+html
+look
+found-typewriter-poem
+html
+hands
+hands
+html
+on
+poetry
+on-genre-dimension
+html
+a
+hard
+game
+hard-game
+html
+hardware
+hardware
+html
+how
+it
+happened
+howithappened
+html
+how
+to
+read
+this
+howtoread
+html
+hymnal
+hymnal
+html
+i
+am
+i-am
+html
+i
+think
+it's
+you
+but
+it's
+not
+i-think-its-you
+html
+i
+wanted
+to
+tell
+you
+something
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+html
+in
+bed
+in-bed
+html
+i
+want
+to
+say
+i-want-to-say
+html
+the
+initial
+conditions
+initial-conditions
+html
+of
+january
+january
+html
+s
+joke
+joke
+html
+are
+l'appel
+du
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+lappel-du-vide
+html
+the
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+asteroid
+belt
+largest-asteroid
+html
+is
+the
+last
+bastion
+last-bastion
+html
+the
+last
+passenger
+last-passenger
+html
+leaf
+leaf
+html
+the
+leg
+leg
+html
+liking
+things
+likingthings
+html
+listen
+listen
+html
+love
+as
+god
+love-as-god
+html
+loves
+better
+than
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+love
+song
+lovesong
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+man
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+this
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+poetics
+html
+the
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+movingsideways
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+no-nothing
+html
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+notes
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+nothing-is-ever-over
+html
+on
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+onformalpoetry
+html
+options
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+paul
+paul
+html
+philosophy
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+html
+phone
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+html
+s
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+a
+litany
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+plant
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+poetry-time
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+prelude
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+proverbs
+html
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+punch
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+ronald
+mcdonald
+ronaldmcdonald
+html
+wear
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+with
+something
+simple
+something-simple
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+on
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+squirrel
+html
+sitting
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+tenure
+as
+a
+bear
+dollywood
+html
+statements
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+html
+stayed
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+too
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+html
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+swansong-alt
+html
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+song
+swansong
+html
+swear
+swear
+html
+the
+table
+of
+contents
+table
+contents
+html
+is
+a
+tapestry
+tapestry
+html
+telemarketer
+telemarketer
+html
+s
+swear
+that
+the
+night
+we
+met
+i
+was
+out
+of
+my
+mind
+the-night-we-met
+html
+the
+sea
+and
+the
+beach
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+even
+the
+ocean
+overflows
+with
+camels
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
+time
+looks
+up
+to
+the
+sky
+time-looks-up-to-the-sky
+html
+to
+daniel
+todaniel
+html
+on
+the
+toilet
+toilet
+html
+writing
+toothpaste
+toothpaste
+html
+a
+treatise
+treatise
+html
+on
+underwear
+underwear
+html
+and
+wallpaper
+wallpaper
+html
+we
+played
+those
+games
+too
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
+when
+i'm
+sorry
+i
+wash
+dishes
+when-im-sorry-i
+html
+in
+the
+window
+window
+html
+walking
+in
+the
+rain
+walking-in-the-rain
+html
+thinking
+about
+what
+we
+are
+made
+of
+what-we-are-made-of
+html
+words
+and
+meaning
+words-meaning
+html
+irritably
+reaching
+after
+reason
+words-irritable-reaching
+html
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+feel
+worse
+looking
+over
+worse-looking-over
+html
+at
+you
+than
+when
+i'm
+writing
+writing
+html
+an
+x-ray
+x-ray
+html
+in
+yellow
+yellow
+html
diff --git a/river/creation-myth.river b/river/creation-myth.river
index 31c6c34..34dcad2 100644
--- a/river/creation-myth.river
+++ b/river/creation-myth.river

@@ -1,5 +1,20 @@
+title
 creation
 myth
+id
+creation-myth
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 so
 two
 hyperintelligent
@@ -198,7 +213,8 @@ says
 oh
 just
 another
-dollar-fifty
+dollar
+-fifty
 the
 being
 reaches
@@ -230,7 +246,8 @@ says
 you
 got
 a
-buck-fifty
+buck
+-fifty
 i
 can
 borrow
@@ -263,3 +280,21 @@ broke
 too
 he
 says
+hyperintelligent
+pandimensional
+http
+hitchhikers
+wikia
+com
+wiki
+mice
+oh
+shit
+movingsideways
+html
+dollar
+100-lines
+html
+buck
+plant
+html
diff --git a/river/deadman.river b/river/deadman.river
index 3771a24..ca39024 100644
--- a/river/deadman.river
+++ b/river/deadman.river

@@ -1,5 +1,35 @@
+title
 dead
 man
+id
+deadman
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
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+prev
+title
+the
+boar
+link
+boar
+next
+title
+the
+angel
+to
+abraham
+link
+angeltoabraham
 a
 dead
 man
@@ -140,3 +170,15 @@ back
 in
 his
 hole
+hearts
+words-meaning
+html
+they
+spin
+moongone
+html
+knot
+while
+mating
+spittle
+html
diff --git a/river/death-zone.river b/river/death-zone.river
index 4c014cd..ae8da78 100644
--- a/river/death-zone.river
+++ b/river/death-zone.river

@@ -1,6 +1,84 @@
+title
 the
 death
 zone
+id
+death-zone
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+and
+my
+life
+became
+death
+attrib
+philip
+gould
+link
+http
+www
+npr
+org
+blogs
+13
+7
+2013
+11
+19
+245996903
+embracing-life-and-death
+ekphrastic
+image
+gould
+png
+title
+philip
+gould
+link
+http
+www
+npr
+org
+blogs
+13
+7
+2013
+11
+19
+245996903
+embracing-life-and-death
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
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+order
+7
+next
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+the
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+dipper
+link
+big-dipper
+title
+exasperated
+link
+exasperated
+prev
+title
+exasperated
+link
+exasperated
+title
+amber
+alert
+link
+amber-alert
 when
 i
 think
@@ -150,3 +228,15 @@ is
 lost
 to
 posterity
+his
+pockets
+creation-myth
+html
+sweaty
+cheese
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+html
+earth's
+womb
+about-the-author
+html
diff --git a/river/deathstrumpet.river b/river/deathstrumpet.river
index e204918..db174cb 100644
--- a/river/deathstrumpet.river
+++ b/river/deathstrumpet.river

@@ -1,5 +1,48 @@
+title
 death's
 trumpet
+id
+deathstrumpet
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
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+prev
+title
+to
+daniel
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+link
+todaniel
+epigraph
+content
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+death
+plays
+his
+little
+fucking
+apollo11
+html
+trumpet
+so
+what
+says
+the
+boy
+attrib
+larry
+levis
 he
 didn't
 have
@@ -80,6 +123,7 @@ himself
 in
 the
 mirror
+moongone
 as
 he
 plays
@@ -219,3 +263,10 @@ is
 in
 his
 hand
+moongone
+moongone
+html
+little
+boy
+angeltoabraham
+html
diff --git a/river/dollywood.river b/river/dollywood.river
index e69de29..cb7d163 100644
--- a/river/dollywood.river
+++ b/river/dollywood.river

@@ -0,0 +1,2509 @@
+title
+something
+id
+dollywood
+subtitle
+about
+my
+tenure
+as
+a
+bear
+genre
+prose
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+title
+autocento
+of
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+breakfast
+table
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+off
+the
+tv
+as
+soon
+as
+the
+end
+credits
+began
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+stretched
+in
+the
+la-z-boy
+trade
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+grew
+up
+in
+pushing
+its
+back
+until
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+lay
+horizontal
+feet
+slightly
+elevated
+i
+stared
+at
+the
+light
+at
+the
+bugs
+silhouetted
+inside
+it
+i
+relaxed
+thought
+about
+sleeping
+in
+the
+chair
+with
+the
+light
+on
+i
+decided
+against
+it
+pulled
+the
+lever
+to
+pull
+the
+chairback
+up
+and
+the
+footrest
+down
+stood
+up
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+around
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+corner
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+off
+the
+light
+stripped
+to
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+underwear
+and
+got
+in
+bed
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+made
+sure
+my
+alarm
+was
+set
+for
+8
+00
+and
+lay
+face-up
+in
+the
+dark
+eventually
+i
+slept
+i
+still
+consider
+this
+to
+be
+the
+best
+summer
+i
+ever
+had
+in
+terms
+of
+my
+sleep
+schedule
+every
+night
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+bed
+at
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+took
+a
+shower
+ate
+my
+frosted
+mini-wheats
+trade
+and
+brushed
+my
+teeth
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+took
+my
+time
+because
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+didn't
+have
+to
+leave
+for
+work
+until
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+30
+my
+shift
+at
+dollywood
+started
+at
+10
+00
+it
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+my
+second
+summer
+there
+i
+worked
+as
+larry
+the
+cucumber
+trade
+mostly
+though
+sometimes
+i
+would
+pick
+up
+the
+shift
+for
+one
+of
+the
+official
+dollywood
+mascots
+when
+they
+had
+their
+day
+off
+i
+went
+outside
+when
+the
+wall
+clock
+read
+9
+32
+the
+day
+was
+already
+beginning
+to
+warm
+up
+i
+walked
+across
+the
+road
+to
+my
+car
+a
+saturn
+reg
+my
+first
+started
+it
+pulled
+into
+the
+road
+and
+looked
+up
+at
+my
+window
+the
+only
+one
+on
+the
+second
+floor
+of
+my
+house
+i
+said
+so
+long
+in
+my
+head
+to
+my
+room
+the
+house
+and
+my
+two
+sisters
+still
+sleeping
+inside
+and
+drove
+down
+the
+road
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+morning
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+cabin
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+christian
+bookstores
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+in
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+went
+into
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+couldn't
+help
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+two
+friends
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+before
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+got
+to
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+of
+pigeon
+forge
+into
+the
+employee
+entrance
+of
+dollywood
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+drove
+down
+a
+small
+road
+to
+my
+left
+a
+hill
+covered
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+to
+my
+right
+a
+fence
+past
+which
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+could
+hear
+people
+riding
+the
+river
+rampage
+trade
+or
+rockin
+roadway
+trade
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+turned
+left
+again
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+past
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+dollywood
+doctor's
+office
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+the
+bottom
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+any
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+hill
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+main
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+in
+costume
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+at
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+was
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+expensive
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+people
+to
+put
+on
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+didn't
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+wear
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+onto
+the
+park
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+finally
+let
+me
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+employee
+entrance
+and
+clocked
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+9
+58
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+out
+how
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+first
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+job
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+the
+placement
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+the
+atmosphere
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+and
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+was
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+and
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+hammer
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+that
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+me
+based
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+days
+he'd
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+in
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+out
+himself
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+said
+it
+wasn't
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+big
+deal
+but
+to
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+in
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+summer
+this
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+so
+i
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+in
+and
+out
+every
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+bridge
+under
+the
+rope
+that
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+guests
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+park
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+at
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+00
+down
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+and
+into
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+back
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+palace
+theater
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+shells
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+tomato
+trade
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+trade
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+underarmour
+trade
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+the
+laundry
+basket
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+went
+to
+the
+bathroom
+to
+change
+after
+i
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+i
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+bathroom
+and
+knocked
+on
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+women's
+dressing
+room
+door
+to
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+if
+nina
+or
+stacy
+were
+in
+yet
+nina
+opened
+the
+door
+hey
+case
+she
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+how's
+it
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+i'm
+good
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+off
+the
+day
+before
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+i
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+rotation
+yeah
+i
+think
+so
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+makeup
+in
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+mirror
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+handling
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+chance
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+nina
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+i
+were
+the
+vegetables
+i
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+arrangement
+i
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+trade
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+didn't
+have
+to
+talk
+to
+anyone
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+i
+could
+make
+faces
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+the
+costume
+while
+families
+took
+pictures
+nina
+preferred
+the
+same
+thing
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+was
+slightly
+too
+tall
+to
+fit
+comfortably
+inside
+bob
+trade
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+actually
+preferred
+to
+handle
+her
+personality
+was
+bubbly
+and
+talkative
+i
+don't
+think
+chance
+liked
+any
+part
+of
+the
+job
+really
+and
+handling
+was
+less
+hot
+than
+being
+in
+the
+suit
+when's
+our
+first
+run
+i
+asked
+well
+the
+first
+show
+is
+at
+10
+20
+so
+we
+were
+thinking
+about
+11
+i
+nodded
+where's
+chance
+i
+think
+he
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+out
+back
+to
+smoke
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+said
+i'll
+go
+with
+you
+the
+actors
+for
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+veggie
+tales
+show
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+coming
+in
+to
+use
+their
+dressing
+room
+so
+we
+left
+stacy
+with
+them
+we
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+through
+backstage
+behind
+all
+the
+curtains
+and
+through
+the
+side
+door
+into
+a
+sort
+of
+garage
+with
+ratty
+couches
+a
+refrigerator
+and
+an
+old
+tv
+mounted
+high
+up
+on
+the
+wall
+chance
+was
+sitting
+smoking
+and
+watching
+jeopardy
+while
+thumbing
+through
+a
+magazine
+hi
+chance
+i
+said
+hey
+guys
+he
+flicked
+his
+smile
+always
+somewhere
+between
+genuine
+and
+mocking
+at
+us
+think
+it'll
+rain
+today
+he
+asked
+indicating
+the
+direction
+of
+the
+sky
+it
+wasn't
+really
+visible
+from
+within
+the
+garage
+due
+to
+the
+high
+fence
+keeping
+the
+guests
+on
+the
+path
+toward
+timber
+tower
+trade
+and
+mystery
+mine
+trade
+and
+the
+tree
+just
+outside
+the
+garage
+i
+don't
+think
+there's
+a
+cloud
+in
+the
+sky
+i
+said
+but
+walked
+out
+of
+the
+garage
+and
+looked
+up
+to
+be
+sure
+there
+were
+wisps
+of
+cirrus
+like
+stray
+brush
+strokes
+on
+a
+blue
+canvas
+but
+that
+was
+all
+i
+think
+we'll
+have
+to
+do
+all
+of
+our
+runs
+today
+damn
+said
+chance
+and
+stubbed
+out
+his
+cigarette
+we
+watched
+jeopardy
+in
+silence
+for
+a
+few
+minutes
+chance
+checked
+his
+watch
+it's
+10
+19
+he
+said
+we
+should
+get
+inside
+before
+the
+show
+starts
+we
+went
+back
+to
+the
+dressing
+room
+behind
+the
+curtains
+backstage
+past
+the
+skins
+of
+larry
+trade
+and
+bob
+trade
+their
+feet
+and
+their
+battery
+packs
+past
+the
+water
+fountain
+where
+i
+drank
+and
+into
+the
+women's
+dressing
+room
+stacy
+had
+finished
+applying
+her
+makeup
+and
+was
+already
+in
+overalls
+flannel
+boots
+and
+cowboy
+hat
+seeing
+her
+chance
+said
+i'd
+better
+go
+put
+my
+outfit
+on
+he
+left
+and
+came
+back
+costumed
+we
+killed
+time
+nina
+turned
+her
+wrist
+and
+looked
+at
+her
+watch
+it's
+10
+50
+she
+said
+looking
+at
+me
+and
+jerking
+her
+head
+toward
+the
+door
+let's
+get
+ready
+we
+went
+out
+and
+down
+the
+hall
+the
+veggie
+tales
+were
+singing
+about
+mr
+nezzer
+trade
+loving
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+bunny
+nina
+went
+to
+bob
+trade
+and
+i
+to
+larry
+trade
+we
+set
+to
+work
+pulling
+them
+right-side-out
+when
+this
+was
+done
+we
+put
+on
+the
+backpacks
+that
+served
+as
+interior
+shells
+for
+the
+characters
+and
+held
+the
+battery
+packs
+as
+nina
+pulled
+on
+bob
+trade
+s
+legs
+i
+pulled
+on
+larry
+trade
+s
+i
+put
+my
+shoes
+in
+larry
+trade
+s
+feet
+a
+concession
+made
+to
+the
+forms
+of
+us
+humans
+inside
+the
+suits
+bob
+trade
+and
+larry
+trade
+on
+the
+show
+had
+no
+arms
+or
+legs
+we
+clipped
+each
+other's
+batteries
+into
+the
+packs
+we
+put
+our
+hands
+through
+the
+vegetables
+arms
+at
+this
+point
+the
+vegetables
+faces
+were
+sagging
+from
+our
+waists
+like
+deflated
+balloons
+we
+waddled
+over
+to
+the
+hallway
+outside
+the
+dressing
+rooms
+chance
+helped
+me
+put
+larry's
+hands
+on
+which
+were
+three-fingered
+like
+a
+cartoon
+although
+in
+the
+cartoon
+the
+veggie
+tales
+characters
+don't
+have
+hands
+he
+snapped
+them
+onto
+the
+arm
+he
+helped
+me
+pull
+the
+head
+up
+and
+over
+my
+pack
+and
+clipped
+the
+battery
+to
+the
+fan
+inside
+the
+suit
+he
+zipped
+the
+back
+zipper
+and
+the
+suit
+started
+to
+inflate
+bob
+trade
+and
+larry
+trade
+were
+inflatable
+to
+cut
+down
+on
+their
+weight
+stacy
+had
+done
+the
+same
+with
+nina
+and
+bob
+trade
+she
+asked
+ready
+we
+said
+ready
+chance
+got
+ahead
+of
+us
+opening
+the
+door
+i
+had
+to
+push
+my
+hands
+into
+my
+chest
+to
+deflate
+the
+suit
+so
+it
+could
+fit
+through
+the
+door
+we
+stepped
+into
+the
+dappled
+sunlight
+of
+dollywood
+the
+first
+few
+minutes
+of
+the
+run
+were
+fairly
+peaceful
+a
+few
+families
+walking
+by
+saw
+us
+and
+walk
+over
+forming
+a
+small
+line
+for
+their
+children
+to
+say
+hello
+get
+a
+hug
+and
+a
+picture
+one
+of
+the
+kids
+about
+three
+got
+about
+five
+feet
+from
+me
+pass
+some
+sort
+of
+magic
+barrier
+and
+suddenly
+become
+terrified
+she
+screamed
+and
+run
+back
+to
+her
+parents
+i
+tried
+to
+get
+eye-contact
+it
+was
+hard
+to
+tell
+exactly
+where
+larry
+trade
+was
+looking
+since
+his
+eyes
+were
+about
+a
+foot
+above
+my
+head
+and
+were
+fixed
+forward
+get
+small
+and
+hold
+out
+my
+hand
+but
+she
+had
+seen
+quite
+enough
+she
+shook
+her
+head
+and
+hid
+behind
+her
+mother's
+leg
+i
+waved
+with
+my
+fingers
+and
+stepped
+back
+to
+receive
+the
+next
+child
+sometimes
+doing
+this
+job
+i
+felt
+like
+a
+priest
+giving
+some
+sort
+of
+communion
+sometimes
+i
+felt
+like
+a
+celebrity
+especially
+when
+children
+asked
+for
+an
+autograph
+this
+happened
+fairly
+often
+and
+chance
+had
+to
+guide
+my
+hand
+with
+the
+sharpie
+trade
+in
+it
+sometimes
+i
+felt
+like
+santa
+claus
+or
+some
+other
+mythical
+creature
+come
+to
+earth
+mostly
+i
+felt
+a
+little
+hot
+and
+slightly
+bored
+the
+boredom
+crystallized
+into
+stress
+when
+the
+veggie
+tales
+show
+let
+out
+showstreet
+palace
+held
+something
+like
+four
+hundred
+people
+and
+for
+a
+show
+like
+veggie
+tales
+around
+half
+were
+children
+for
+this
+run
+our
+post
+was
+around
+the
+side
+of
+the
+theater
+so
+we
+didn't
+get
+the
+full
+press
+of
+the
+crowd
+but
+there
+were
+quite
+a
+few
+people
+streaming
+out
+of
+the
+side
+door
+fresh
+from
+seeing
+larry
+trade
+bob
+trade
+and
+friends
+performing
+in
+a
+show
+of
+course
+they
+were
+excited
+to
+see
+them
+giving
+out
+hugs
+in
+the
+street
+chance
+and
+stacy
+became
+busy
+trying
+to
+form
+the
+crowd
+into
+some
+semblance
+of
+a
+line
+while
+i
+and
+nina
+were
+hugging
+children
+trying
+to
+take
+our
+time
+with
+each
+but
+painfully
+aware
+of
+the
+next
+in
+line
+this
+was
+the
+worst
+part
+of
+the
+job
+i
+felt
+like
+i
+was
+on
+a
+factory
+line
+gluing
+widgets
+onto
+a
+product
+all
+day
+i
+was
+always
+looking
+ahead
+always
+at
+the
+next
+kid
+barely
+noticing
+what
+the
+ones
+old
+enough
+to
+talk
+were
+saying
+to
+me
+trying
+to
+show
+me
+i
+felt
+callous
+and
+aloof
+from
+humanity
+and
+a
+deep
+unease
+passed
+over
+me
+with
+all
+of
+this
+on
+my
+mind
+of
+course
+i
+didn't
+see
+the
+teenager
+running
+toward
+me
+from
+my
+left
+chance
+and
+stacy
+can't
+be
+blamed
+they
+were
+busy
+with
+crowd
+control
+i
+don't
+know
+what
+happened
+to
+the
+kid
+afterward
+all
+i
+know
+is
+what
+happened
+to
+me
+suddenly
+a
+great
+weight
+on
+my
+left
+side
+the
+hiss
+of
+air
+being
+forced
+out
+of
+larry
+trade
+me
+almost
+falling
+over
+the
+weight
+fell
+off
+i
+turned
+around
+too
+stunned
+to
+yell
+though
+chance
+had
+caught
+it
+out
+of
+the
+corner
+of
+his
+eye
+hey
+don't
+do
+that
+he
+said
+his
+eyes
+on
+the
+fallen
+teenager
+the
+kid
+was
+maybe
+fifteen
+tall
+with
+a
+white
+t-shirt
+and
+dark
+hair
+he
+had
+an
+indescribable
+look
+on
+his
+face
+surprise
+satisfaction
+and
+something
+else
+i
+couldn't
+identify
+before
+chance
+could
+reach
+him
+he
+ran
+off
+you
+okay
+he
+turned
+to
+me
+and
+asked
+i
+said
+in
+a
+low
+voice
+yeah
+i'm
+fine
+we're
+going
+in
+he
+said
+to
+stacy
+she
+checked
+her
+watch
+said
+yeah
+it's
+been
+twenty
+minutes
+to
+the
+crowd
+we
+have
+time
+for
+just
+two
+more
+pictures
+a
+wave
+of
+disappointment
+went
+through
+the
+people
+there
+most
+stayed
+hoping
+for
+an
+extension
+of
+the
+rule
+but
+we
+took
+two
+more
+pictures
+turned
+around
+and
+began
+walking
+inside
+some
+family
+tried
+to
+follow
+us
+in
+chance
+hollered
+over
+his
+shoulder
+i'm
+sorry
+folks
+we
+have
+to
+go
+in
+bob
+trade
+and
+larry
+trade
+need
+a
+break
+the
+father
+asked
+when
+will
+you
+be
+back
+out
+after
+the
+next
+show
+chance
+said
+as
+stacy
+opened
+the
+door
+i
+deflated
+larry
+trade
+s
+face
+again
+to
+get
+in
+the
+door
+and
+was
+safe
+in
+the
+darkness
+of
+the
+hallway
+chance
+unzipped
+me
+allowing
+real
+cool
+air
+to
+wash
+over
+my
+body
+nina
+and
+i
+waddled
+down
+the
+hallway
+to
+peel
+the
+vegetables
+off
+ourselves
+and
+to
+repeat
+the
+process
+of
+waiting
+dressing
+and
+standing
+again
+stripped
+to
+my
+underwear
+underwear
+html
+in
+bed
+in-bed
+html
+in
+my
+head
+hymnal
+html
diff --git a/river/dream.river b/river/dream.river
index 970b305..04a30d2 100644
--- a/river/dream.river
+++ b/river/dream.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 dream
+id
+dream
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+4
+next
+title
+axe
+link
+axe
+title
+early
+link
+early
+prev
+title
+underwear
+link
+underwear
+title
+cereal
+link
+cereal
 it
 had
 gotten
@@ -171,3 +209,12 @@ gasping
 in
 a
 sweat
+in
+bed
+in-bed
+html
+music
+too
+loud
+music-433
+html
diff --git a/river/early.river b/river/early.river
index a645fdf..62ad6cc 100644
--- a/river/early.river
+++ b/river/early.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 early
+id
+early
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+35
+next
+title
+toothpaste
+link
+toothpaste
+title
+father
+link
+father
+prev
+title
+stump
+link
+stump
+title
+dream
+link
+dream
 you
 cannot
 discover
@@ -57,7 +95,6 @@ not
 to
 notice
 art
-=
 artifice
 he
 wrote
@@ -74,7 +111,6 @@ to
 find
 a
 pattern
-&
 find
 a
 pattern
@@ -227,8 +263,35 @@ knowing
 he
 wrote
 pattern
-=
 memory
 in
 his
 notebook
+watched
+tv
+real-writer
+html
+dinner
+had
+been
+chicken
+when-im-sorry-i
+html
+milk
+shipwright
+html
+find
+a
+pattern
+fire
+html
+looked
+sideways
+movingsideways
+html
+to
+the
+same
+place
+serengeti
+html
diff --git a/river/elegyforanalternateself.river b/river/elegyforanalternateself.river
index 6ba68ed..2d366ec 100644
--- a/river/elegyforanalternateself.river
+++ b/river/elegyforanalternateself.river

@@ -1,8 +1,23 @@
+title
 elegy
 for
 an
 alternate
 self
+id
+elegyforanalternateself
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 say
 there
 are
@@ -163,3 +178,31 @@ only
 humans
 feel
 it
+no
+words
+hymnal
+html
+a
+plant
+plant
+html
+only
+things
+that
+worry
+movingsideways
+html
+there
+is
+no
+whole
+in
+the
+world
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+html
+worry
+about
+separation
+swansong-alt
+html
diff --git a/river/epigraph.river b/river/epigraph.river
index 0615d0e..6be0367 100644
--- a/river/epigraph.river
+++ b/river/epigraph.river

@@ -1,4 +1,38 @@
+title
 epigraph
+id
+epigraph
+genre
+prose
+epigraph
+attrib
+sylvia
+plath
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+1
+next
+title
+how
+to
+read
+this
+link
+howtoreadthis
+prev
+title
+death's
+trumpet
+link
+deathstrumpet
 i
 saw
 my
@@ -194,3 +228,10 @@ ground
 at
 my
 feet
+other
+lovers
+spittle
+html
+death
+deathstrumpet
+html
diff --git a/river/ex-machina.river b/river/ex-machina.river
index 3258e92..98863a1 100644
--- a/river/ex-machina.river
+++ b/river/ex-machina.river

@@ -1,5 +1,36 @@
+title
 ex
 machina
+id
+ex-machina
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+with
+lines
+from
+national
+geographic
+link
+http
+ngm
+nationalgeographic
+com
+2013
+08
+sugar
+cohen-text
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 bottom
 of
 the
@@ -165,3 +196,16 @@ melted
 in
 the
 sun
+hobo
+prelude
+html
+justifiable
+anger
+table
+contents
+html
+nothing
+ever
+ends
+no-nothing
+html
diff --git a/river/exasperated.river b/river/exasperated.river
index 7206d1c..92b3c07 100644
--- a/river/exasperated.river
+++ b/river/exasperated.river

@@ -1,4 +1,45 @@
+title
 exasperated
+id
+exasperated
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+8
+next
+title
+the
+death
+zone
+link
+death-zone
+title
+boy
+on
+the
+bus
+link
+boy
+bus
+prev
+title
+amber
+alert
+link
+amber-alert
+title
+the
+death
+zone
+link
+death-zone
 i
 didn't
 write
@@ -351,3 +392,35 @@ i
 could
 publish
 someday
+after
+thirty-nine
+days
+http
+biblehub
+com
+2
+corinthians
+11-24
+htm
+inigo
+montoya
+death-zone
+html
+so
+my
+question
+question
+html
+weaving
+tapestry
+html
+how
+hard
+it
+is
+to
+be
+a
+person
+deathstrumpet
+html
diff --git a/river/father.river b/river/father.river
index 51f9871..adfc69f 100644
--- a/river/father.river
+++ b/river/father.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 father
+id
+father
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+37
+next
+title
+paul
+link
+paul
+title
+fire
+link
+fire
+prev
+title
+toothpaste
+link
+toothpaste
+title
+early
+link
+early
 is
 man
 the
@@ -199,3 +237,7 @@ a
 bit
 he
 said
+riptide
+riptide
+memory
+html
diff --git a/river/feedingtheraven.river b/river/feedingtheraven.river
index a70c05f..eb2daac 100644
--- a/river/feedingtheraven.river
+++ b/river/feedingtheraven.river

@@ -1,6 +1,37 @@
+title
 feeding
 the
 raven
+id
+feedingtheraven
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+11
+prev
+title
+the
+angel
+to
+abraham
+link
+angeltoabraham
+next
+title
+on
+formal
+poetry
+link
+onformalpoetry
 you
 never
 can
@@ -120,7 +151,8 @@ a
 grin
 like
 a
-dog's
+dog
+s
 he
 bounded
 in
@@ -344,3 +376,15 @@ was
 a
 breeze
 blowing
+dog
+purpose-dogs
+html
+translation
+of
+a
+translation
+todaniel
+html
+clock
+boar
+html
diff --git a/river/finding-the-lion.river b/river/finding-the-lion.river
index 7e86394..43f7edf 100644
--- a/river/finding-the-lion.river
+++ b/river/finding-the-lion.river

@@ -1,6 +1,21 @@
+title
 finding
 the
 lion
+id
+finding-the-lion
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 tonight
 as
 i
@@ -132,3 +147,38 @@ wind
 on
 the
 mountain
+there
+is
+no
+moon
+moongone
+html
+nothing
+like
+a
+raven
+feedingtheraven
+html
+small
+gossips
+of
+the
+dark
+the-night-we-met
+html
+his
+mane
+axe
+html
+you
+only
+hear
+the
+wind
+cold-wind
+html
+on
+the
+mountain
+mountain
+html
diff --git a/river/fire.river b/river/fire.river
index 2046523..b686c05 100644
--- a/river/fire.river
+++ b/river/fire.river

@@ -1,4 +1,38 @@
+title
 fire
+id
+fire
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+39
+next
+title
+hands
+link
+hands
+prev
+title
+paul
+link
+paul
+title
+father
+link
+father
 his
 mother
 ran
@@ -314,3 +348,27 @@ it's
 all
 better
 now
+when
+it
+did
+it
+was
+not
+in
+a
+very
+strong
+stream
+hard-game
+html
+black
+and
+white
+sense-of-it
+html
+left
+that
+was
+hurt
+x-ray
+html
diff --git a/river/first-lines.river b/river/first-lines.river
index b1470e7..3154944 100644
--- a/river/first-lines.river
+++ b/river/first-lines.river

@@ -1,12 +1,28 @@
+title
 autocento
 of
 the
 breakfast
 table
+id
+first-lines
+subtitle
 index
 of
 first
 lines
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 a
 dead
 man
@@ -16,6 +32,8 @@ way
 into
 our
 hearts
+deadman
+html
 a
 dog
 moving
@@ -28,6 +46,8 @@ moving
 sideways
 is
 drunk
+movingsideways
+html
 art
 and
 craft
@@ -41,6 +61,8 @@ of
 the
 same
 building
+building
+html
 abraham
 abraham
 you
@@ -49,6 +71,8 @@ old
 and
 cannot
 hear
+angeltoabraham
+html
 after
 searching
 for
@@ -56,6 +80,8 @@ days
 or
 even
 months
+big-dipper
+html
 and
 you
 were
@@ -66,20 +92,28 @@ start
 of
 it
 all
+and
+html
 apparently
 typewriters
 need
 ribbon
+tapestry
+html
 bottom
 of
 the
 drink
 they
 had
+ex-machina
+html
 contents
 of
 the
 shed
+paul
+html
 can
 one
 truly
@@ -92,6 +126,8 @@ me
 over
 the
 walkie-talkie
+statements-frag
+html
 case
 duckworth
 is
@@ -106,11 +142,16 @@ solves
 mysteries
 on
 tv
+about
+author
+html
 dimly
 remembered
 celebrity
 chefs
 shuffle
+last-bastion
+html
 do
 you
 have
@@ -135,6 +176,8 @@ coffee
 break
 at
 work
+question
+html
 everything
 changes
 or
@@ -142,6 +185,8 @@ everything
 stays
 the
 same
+planks
+html
 everything
 changes
 or
@@ -149,6 +194,8 @@ everything
 stays
 the
 same
+swear
+html
 god
 is
 love
@@ -157,9 +204,13 @@ say
 but
 there
 is
+love-as-god
+html
 hymn
 386
 jokes
+window
+html
 he
 builds
 a
@@ -171,6 +222,8 @@ were
 the
 last
 thing
+shipwright
+html
 he
 chopped
 down
@@ -183,6 +236,8 @@ looked
 at
 his
 watch
+sapling
+html
 he
 couldn't
 find
@@ -193,6 +248,8 @@ go
 to
 work
 in
+toothpaste
+html
 he
 didn't
 go
@@ -204,6 +261,8 @@ for
 a
 long
 time
+wallpaper
+html
 he
 didn't
 have
@@ -215,6 +274,8 @@ spit-shined
 the
 whole
 thing
+deathstrumpet
+html
 he
 dropped
 the
@@ -228,12 +289,16 @@ on
 and
 turned
 around
+underwear
+html
 he
 is
 so
 full
 in
 himself
+squirrel
+html
 he
 looked
 down
@@ -245,6 +310,8 @@ while
 he
 was
 typing
+hands
+html
 he
 said
 at
@@ -258,6 +325,9 @@ into
 a
 too-small
 ball
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
 he
 sat
 down
@@ -274,6 +344,8 @@ from
 its
 plastic
 wrapping
+writing
+html
 he
 shrugged
 the
@@ -295,6 +367,8 @@ of
 his
 writing
 shack
+leaf
+html
 he
 walked
 into
@@ -306,6 +380,8 @@ first
 time
 in
 months
+stump
+html
 he
 was
 born
@@ -319,6 +395,8 @@ traffic
 lights
 at
 night
+about-the-author
+html
 he
 woke
 up
@@ -336,6 +414,8 @@ to
 his
 writing
 shack
+cereal
+html
 he
 would
 enter
@@ -350,6 +430,8 @@ then
 go
 on
 break
+yellow
+html
 he
 wrote
 jokes
@@ -362,6 +444,8 @@ page
 in
 his
 notebook
+joke
+html
 hello
 paul
 this
@@ -379,12 +463,16 @@ phone
 was
 a
 woman's
+phone
+html
 his
 first
 chair
 was
 a
 stool
+leg
+html
 his
 mother
 drove
@@ -396,6 +484,8 @@ store
 on
 a
 tuesday
+hardware
+html
 his
 mother
 ran
@@ -406,6 +496,8 @@ house
 in
 her
 nightgown
+fire
+html
 how
 astonishing
 it
@@ -415,7 +507,6 @@ language
 can
 almost
 mean
-/
 and
 frightening
 that
@@ -434,12 +525,16 @@ dialect
 of
 the
 heart
+words-meaning
+html
 how
 does
 one
 describe
 a
 poem
+on-genre-dimension
+html
 i
 am
 a
@@ -448,6 +543,8 @@ pillar
 of
 white
 smoke
+i-am
+html
 i
 can
 walk
@@ -457,12 +554,16 @@ rain
 that
 rare
 occurrence
+walking-in-the-rain
+html
 i
 didn't
 write
 this
 sestina
 yesterday
+exasperated
+html
 i
 don't
 care
@@ -476,19 +577,24 @@ his
 last
 blank
 notecard
+snow
+html
 i
 hear
 the
 rats
 run
+in-bed
+html
 i
 lost
 my
 hands
-&
 knit
 replacement
 ones
+roughgloves
+html
 i
 need
 a
@@ -497,6 +603,8 @@ i
 need
 a
 thing
+plant
+html
 i
 only
 write
@@ -505,6 +613,8 @@ on
 the
 bus
 anymore
+sense-of-it
+html
 i
 saw
 my
@@ -521,6 +631,8 @@ tree
 in
 the
 story
+epigraph
+html
 i
 saw
 two
@@ -529,6 +641,8 @@ girls
 playing
 a
 game
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
 i
 think
 that
@@ -537,12 +651,16 @@ could
 write
 formal
 poems
+onformalpoetry
+html
 i
 thought
 i
 saw
 you
 walking
+i-think-its-you
+html
 i
 turned
 off
@@ -555,6 +673,8 @@ the
 end
 credits
 began
+dollywood
+html
 i
 want
 to
@@ -564,6 +684,8 @@ take
 it
 all
 back
+i-want-to-say
+html
 i
 wanted
 to
@@ -573,6 +695,8 @@ something
 in
 order
 to
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+html
 i
 was
 away
@@ -581,6 +705,8 @@ vacation
 when
 i
 heard
+howithappened
+html
 i
 wish
 i'd
@@ -591,6 +717,8 @@ i
 had
 the
 chance
+time-looks-up-to-the-sky
+html
 i'm
 writing
 this
@@ -599,6 +727,8 @@ because
 i
 have
 to
+poetry-time
+html
 if
 justin
 bieber
@@ -607,14 +737,20 @@ going
 for
 the
 sixteenth
+sixteenth-chapel
+html
 if
 you
 swallow
 hard
 enough
+listen
+html
 importance
 is
 important
+philosophy
+html
 inside
 of
 my
@@ -624,6 +760,9 @@ poem
 is
 another
 memory
+riptide
+memory
+html
 is
 man
 the
@@ -647,14 +786,20 @@ window
 at
 the
 shed
+father
+html
 it
 had
 gotten
 cold
+dream
+html
 it
 was
 a
 gamble
+stayed-on-the-bus
+html
 it
 was
 one
@@ -679,6 +824,8 @@ neck
 to
 almost
 vertical
+telemarketer
+html
 it's
 all
 jokes
@@ -692,7 +839,11 @@ now
 calling
 his
 hymnal
+hymnal
+html
 january
+january
+html
 like
 40
 as
@@ -702,11 +853,15 @@ anyone
 to
 come
 too
+call-me-aural-pleasure
+html
 look
 i
 say
 look
 here
+found-typewriter-poem
+html
 lost
 things
 have
@@ -715,17 +870,23 @@ way
 of
 staying
 lost
+amber-alert
+html
 man
 of
 autumn
 cold
 wind
+cold-wind
+html
 memory
 works
 strangely
 spooling
 its
 thread
+last-passenger
+html
 my
 anger
 is
@@ -734,6 +895,8 @@ a
 peach
 he
 said
+peaches
+html
 my
 body
 is
@@ -747,6 +910,8 @@ thin
 spittle
 of
 thought
+spittle
+html
 my
 head
 is
@@ -756,28 +921,38 @@ fire
 my
 tongue
 swollen
+the-night-we-met
+html
 nothing
 is
 ever
 over
 nothing
+nothing-is-ever-over
+html
 nothing
 matters
 everything
 is
 sacred
+proverbs
+html
 now
 the
 ticking
 clocks
 scare
 me
+boar
+html
 of
 course
 there
 is
 a
 god
+prelude
+html
 okay
 so
 there
@@ -787,6 +962,8 @@ or
 isn't
 a
 god
+purpose-dogs
+html
 on
 your
 desk
@@ -794,11 +971,15 @@ i
 set
 a
 tangerine
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
 paul
 began
 typing
 on
 notecards
+notes
+html
 paul
 only
 did
@@ -807,6 +988,8 @@ reading
 on
 the
 toilet
+toilet
+html
 paul
 took
 his
@@ -820,6 +1003,8 @@ woods
 to
 chop
 trees
+axe
+html
 paul
 was
 writing
@@ -828,6 +1013,8 @@ his
 diary
 about
 art
+art
+html
 paul
 you
 can't
@@ -853,6 +1040,8 @@ on
 twelve
 four-by-six
 notecards
+reports
+html
 riding
 the
 bus
@@ -877,6 +1066,8 @@ bus
 ride
 to
 work
+stagnant
+html
 say
 there
 are
@@ -887,6 +1078,8 @@ that
 we
 are
 conjoined
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
 silence
 lies
 underneath
@@ -896,6 +1089,8 @@ in
 the
 same
 way
+music-433
+html
 it's
 the
 fucking
@@ -904,10 +1099,14 @@ big
 deal
 as
 if
+apollo11
+html
 two
 hyperintelligent
 pandimensional
 beings
+creation-myth
+html
 feel
 as
 though
@@ -917,6 +1116,8 @@ not
 a
 real
 writer
+real-writer
+html
 somewhere
 i
 remember
@@ -939,11 +1140,15 @@ in
 the
 early
 stages
+words-irritable-reaching
+html
 swans
 fly
 overhead
 singing
 goodbye
+swansong
+html
 this
 man
 refused
@@ -951,6 +1156,8 @@ to
 open
 his
 eyes
+man
+html
 treatise
 on
 literature
@@ -960,6 +1167,8 @@ action
 at
 a
 distance
+treatise
+html
 the
 definition
 of
@@ -971,6 +1180,8 @@ that
 you
 really
 like
+likingthings
+html
 the
 look
 she
@@ -985,6 +1196,9 @@ times
 that
 in
 hell
+table
+contents
+html
 the
 moon
 is
@@ -994,6 +1208,8 @@ stars
 it
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 them
+moon-drowning
+html
 the
 moon
 is
@@ -1010,12 +1226,16 @@ the
 night
 sky
 now
+moongone
+html
 the
 other
 side
 of
 this
 mountain
+mountain
+html
 the
 problem
 with
@@ -1026,17 +1246,23 @@ we
 cannot
 be
 happy
+problems
+html
 the
 radio
 is
 screaming
 the
 man
+worse-looking-over
+html
 the
 self
 is
 a
 serengeti
+serengeti
+html
 there
 are
 more
@@ -1044,6 +1270,8 @@ modern
 ideals
 of
 beauty
+todaniel
+html
 there
 is
 a
@@ -1057,6 +1285,8 @@ from
 ancient
 lava
 flows
+what-we-are-made-of
+html
 there
 is
 a
@@ -1065,6 +1295,8 @@ which
 states
 the
 universe
+initial-conditions
+html
 this
 book
 is
@@ -1080,6 +1312,8 @@ that
 could
 be
 lived
+howtoread
+html
 this
 poem
 is
@@ -1087,6 +1321,8 @@ dry
 like
 chapped
 lips
+swansong-alt
+html
 tonight
 as
 i
@@ -1094,12 +1330,17 @@ look
 up
 the
 stars
+finding-the-lion
+html
 waiting
 for
 a
 reading
 to
 start
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
 walking
 along
 in
@@ -1113,6 +1354,8 @@ to
 begin
 a
 song
+lovesong
+html
 walter
 rides
 the
@@ -1143,6 +1386,8 @@ home-for-death
 phase
 of
 life
+lappel-du-vide
+html
 we
 found
 your
@@ -1152,6 +1397,8 @@ in
 the
 dark
 water
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
 what
 did
 he
@@ -1162,6 +1409,8 @@ was
 in
 the
 woods
+options
+html
 what
 do
 you
@@ -1187,18 +1436,27 @@ front
 of
 the
 tv
+shed
+html
 what
 is
 a
 poem
+manifesto
+poetics
+html
 what
 is
 poetry
+arspoetica
+html
 what
 secrets
 does
 it
 hold
+largest-asteroid
+html
 when
 i
 think
@@ -1206,6 +1464,8 @@ of
 death
 i
 think
+death-zone
+html
 when
 ronald
 mcdonald
@@ -1214,6 +1474,8 @@ off
 his
 striped
 shirt
+ronaldmcdonald
+html
 when
 he
 finally
@@ -1229,6 +1491,8 @@ threw
 him
 a
 party
+punch
+html
 when
 he
 said
@@ -1238,11 +1502,16 @@ heard
 his
 southern
 accent
+boy
+bus
+html
 whenever
 you
 call
 me
 friend
+100-lines
+html
 while
 chopping
 a
@@ -1267,11 +1536,15 @@ heard
 before
 cried
 out
+x-ray
+html
 while
 swimming
 in
 the
 river
+no-nothing
+html
 you
 cannot
 discover
@@ -1294,6 +1567,8 @@ watched
 tv
 and
 smoked
+early
+html
 you
 never
 can
@@ -1306,6 +1581,8 @@ will
 enter
 your
 life
+feedingtheraven
+html
 you
 think
 building
@@ -1313,12 +1590,16 @@ hoggle's
 a
 hard
 game
+hard-game
+html
 your
 casserole
 dish
 takes
 the
 longest
+when-im-sorry-i
+html
 in
 mammals
 the
@@ -1326,6 +1607,8 @@ ratio
 between
 bladder
 size
+something-simple
+html
 has
 been
 a
@@ -1338,3 +1621,5 @@ since
 the
 late
 70s
+collage-instrument
+html
diff --git a/river/found-typewriter-poem.river b/river/found-typewriter-poem.river
index af62201..d917166 100644
--- a/river/found-typewriter-poem.river
+++ b/river/found-typewriter-poem.river

@@ -1,8 +1,84 @@
+title
 look
+id
+found-typewriter-poem
+subtitle
 a
 found
 typewriter
 poem
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+is
+he
+older
+http
+books
+google
+com
+books
+id
+aldlaaaamaaj
+focus
+searchwithinvolume
+q
+older
+than
+i
+asked
+her
+and
+i
+never
+got
+an
+answer
+because
+at
+the
+moment
+she
+disappeared
+in
+a
+puff
+of
+smoke
+i
+like
+to
+think
+nothing
+ever
+happened
+to
+her
+save
+that
+she
+went
+over
+to
+the
+spirit
+realm
+i
+usually
+know
+better
+though
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 look
 i
 say
@@ -15,6 +91,7 @@ place
 where
 nothing
 changes
+old-place
 look
 at
 the
@@ -74,6 +151,7 @@ trees
 don't
 under
 stand
+trees
 they
 are
 too
@@ -86,3 +164,25 @@ of
 discontent
 in
 us
+old-place
+planks
+html
+how
+full
+they
+are
+squirrel
+html
+there
+is
+nothing
+elegeyforanalternateself
+html
+there
+is
+no
+no-nothing
+html
+trees
+plant
+html
diff --git a/river/hands.river b/river/hands.river
index bb43904..c6ae2eb 100644
--- a/river/hands.river
+++ b/river/hands.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 hands
+id
+hands
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+10
+next
+title
+toilet
+link
+toilet
+title
+hardware
+link
+hardware
+prev
+title
+shed
+link
+shed
+title
+fire
+link
+fire
 he
 looked
 down
@@ -166,3 +204,29 @@ arm
 not
 the
 mind
+dry
+and
+cracked
+in
+places
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
+bathroom
+boar
+html
+right
+eye
+then
+his
+left
+man
+html
+his
+own
+reflection
+fish-eyed
+deathstrumpet
+html
+machines
+ex-machina
+html
diff --git a/river/hard-game.river b/river/hard-game.river
index df79b26..70cdda4 100644
--- a/river/hard-game.river
+++ b/river/hard-game.river

@@ -1,6 +1,24 @@
+title
 a
 hard
 game
+id
+hard-game
+genre
+verse
+dedication
+jim
+henson
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 you
 think
 building
@@ -24,7 +42,6 @@ a
 place
 where
 words
-&
 fabric
 play
 but
@@ -106,3 +123,14 @@ nozzle's
 the
 hard
 game
+a
+hose
+fire
+html
+plastic
+sense-of-it
+html
+rub
+shoulders
+finding-the-lion
+html
diff --git a/river/hardware.river b/river/hardware.river
index 0c4bca9..6c33a27 100644
--- a/river/hardware.river
+++ b/river/hardware.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 hardware
+id
+hardware
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+14
+next
+title
+treatise
+link
+treatise
+title
+hymnal
+link
+hymnal
+prev
+title
+planks
+link
+planks
+title
+hands
+link
+hands
 his
 mother
 drove
@@ -172,3 +210,14 @@ car
 great
 he
 said
+proud
+of
+you
+sixteenth-chapel
+html
+furniture
+real-writer
+html
+mystery
+love-as-god
+html
diff --git a/river/howithappened.river b/river/howithappened.river
index 039faf4..021b447 100644
--- a/river/howithappened.river
+++ b/river/howithappened.river

@@ -1,6 +1,34 @@
+title
 how
 it
 happened
+id
+howithappened
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+14
+prev
+title
+i
+am
+link
+i-am
+next
+title
+love
+song
+link
+lovesong
 i
 was
 away
@@ -139,3 +167,11 @@ asking
 where
 i
 am
+already
+written
+shipwright
+html
+the
+drunk
+problems
+html
diff --git a/river/howtoread.river b/river/howtoread.river
index c4b48b0..1702e48 100644
--- a/river/howtoread.river
+++ b/river/howtoread.river

@@ -1,7 +1,33 @@
+title
 how
 to
 read
 this
+id
+howtoread
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+2
+next
+title
+and
+link
+and
+prev
+title
+epigraph
+link
+epigraph
 this
 book
 is
@@ -240,6 +266,7 @@ strictly
 speaking
 doesn't
 exist
+pessoa-exist
 it's
 not
 just
@@ -1576,3 +1603,16 @@ in
 all
 its
 multiversity
+pessoa-exist
+philosophy
+html
+same
+river
+mountain
+html
+elegy
+words-meaning
+html
+kernel
+arspoetica
+html
diff --git a/river/hymnal.river b/river/hymnal.river
index d831851..2591d71 100644
--- a/river/hymnal.river
+++ b/river/hymnal.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 hymnal
+id
+hymnal
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+2
+next
+title
+underwear
+link
+underwear
+title
+joke
+link
+joke
+prev
+title
+art
+link
+art
+title
+hardware
+link
+hardware
 it's
 all
 jokes
@@ -162,11 +200,13 @@ he
 realized
 simultaneously
 that
+a
 he
 could
 ask
 someone
 and
+b
 that
 this
 was
@@ -192,3 +232,6 @@ rest
 by
 asking
 someone
+jokes
+joke
+html
diff --git a/river/i-am.river b/river/i-am.river
index 8295a11..28fb7ce 100644
--- a/river/i-am.river
+++ b/river/i-am.river

@@ -1,5 +1,35 @@
+title
 i
 am
+id
+i-am
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+13
+prev
+title
+on
+formal
+poetry
+link
+onformalpoetry
+next
+title
+how
+it
+happened
+link
+howithappened
 i
 am
 a
@@ -157,6 +187,8 @@ are
 i
 don't
 think
+not
+think
 i
 can
 get
@@ -169,3 +201,21 @@ there
 are
 too
 many
+white
+smoke
+deathstrumpet
+html
+not
+think
+howithappened
+html
+dust
+motes
+that
+worship
+me
+as
+a
+god
+plant
+html
diff --git a/river/i-think-its-you.river b/river/i-think-its-you.river
index 63f640b..a455f90 100644
--- a/river/i-think-its-you.river
+++ b/river/i-think-its-you.river

@@ -1,3 +1,5 @@
+title
 i
 think
 it's
@@ -5,6 +7,60 @@ you
 but
 it's
 not
+id
+i-think-its-you
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+when
+you
+fall
+in
+love
+everyone
+looks
+the
+same
+link
+i-think-its-you
+html
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+15
+next
+title
+initial
+conditions
+link
+initial-conditions
+title
+riptide
+of
+memory
+link
+riptide
+memory
+prev
+title
+boy
+on
+the
+bus
+link
+boy
+bus
+title
+l'appel
+du
+vide
+link
+lappel-du-vide
 i
 thought
 i
@@ -86,3 +142,12 @@ it
 was
 a
 crow
+raven
+feedingtheraven
+html
+crow
+stump
+html
+wings
+nothing-is-ever-over
+html
diff --git a/river/i-want-to-say.river b/river/i-want-to-say.river
index b2a8bc5..1adb60c 100644
--- a/river/i-want-to-say.river
+++ b/river/i-want-to-say.river

@@ -1,7 +1,22 @@
+title
 i
 want
 to
 say
+id
+i-want-to-say
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 want
 to
@@ -289,3 +304,70 @@ cannot
 want
 want
 not
+new
+bed
+in-bed
+html
+saw
+myself
+deathstrumpet
+html
+my
+car
+window
+boy
+bus
+html
+want
+to
+be
+fresh
+plant
+html
+first
+morning
+in
+a
+new
+state
+collage-instrument
+html
+a
+negation
+but
+there
+is
+no
+way
+to
+subtract
+here
+no-nothing
+html
+cut
+you
+away
+from
+myself
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
+i
+look
+in
+a
+mirror
+lovesong
+html
+words
+will
+cease
+to
+give
+meaning
+words-meaning
+html
+repeat
+and
+repeat
+question
+html
diff --git a/river/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.river b/river/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.river
index 9e76558..83eec80 100644
--- a/river/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.river
+++ b/river/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.river

@@ -1,9 +1,24 @@
+title
 i
 wanted
 to
 tell
 you
 something
+id
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 wanted
 to
@@ -214,6 +229,7 @@ stuff
 into
 one
 ball
+marvell
 just
 seems
 glib
@@ -372,3 +388,31 @@ out
 like
 a
 ball
+to
+poetry-time
+html
+universe
+initial-conditions
+html
+yesterday
+exasperated
+html
+ball
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+sixteenth
+sixteenth-chapel
+html
+be
+love-as-god
+html
+marvell
+http
+www
+luminarium
+org
+sevenlit
+marvell
+coy
+htm
diff --git a/river/in-bed.river b/river/in-bed.river
index 3b9fdd4..b38b0e8 100644
--- a/river/in-bed.river
+++ b/river/in-bed.river

@@ -1,5 +1,20 @@
+title
 in
 bed
+id
+in-bed
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 i
 hear
@@ -289,6 +304,7 @@ through
 me
 like
 rats
+rats
 down
 an
 alley
@@ -407,3 +423,63 @@ i
 am
 not
 afraid
+the
+rats
+last-bastion
+html
+i
+see
+my
+reflection
+is
+headless
+deathstrumpet
+html
+and
+the
+moon
+grins
+down
+moon-drowning
+html
+rot
+only
+for
+us
+options
+html
+closed
+over
+me
+like
+an
+eyelid
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
+in
+an
+ocean
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+there
+is
+an
+eagle
+mountain
+html
+i
+remember
+you
+suddenly
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+rats
+i
+blood
+plant
+html
+red
+window
+html
diff --git a/river/initial-conditions.river b/river/initial-conditions.river
index 1095c17..4bd8a75 100644
--- a/river/initial-conditions.river
+++ b/river/initial-conditions.river

@@ -1,5 +1,49 @@
+title
 initial
 conditions
+id
+initial-conditions
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+11
+next
+title
+love
+as
+god
+link
+love-as-god
+title
+ouroboros
+of
+memory
+link
+ouroboros
+memory
+prev
+title
+i
+think
+it's
+you
+but
+it's
+not
+link
+i-think-its-you
+title
+last
+bastion
+link
+last-bastion
 there
 is
 a
@@ -411,3 +455,62 @@ comprising
 my
 entire
 universe
+same
+gravity
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+orbiting
+suns
+big-dipper
+html
+morning
+plant
+html
+had
+the
+ice
+of
+inner
+space
+100-lines
+html
+i
+turn
+on
+the
+tap
+hard-game
+html
+this
+poem
+about
+the
+universe
+howtoread
+html
+body
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+dream
+dream
+html
+wake
+up
+so
+long
+after
+the
+rising
+stump
+html
+computer
+screen
+telemarketer
+html
+the
+screen
+serves
+reports
+html
diff --git a/river/january.river b/river/january.river
index f8352ce..f9307ae 100644
--- a/river/january.river
+++ b/river/january.river

@@ -1,4 +1,19 @@
+title
 january
+id
+january
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 january
 it's
 cold
@@ -242,3 +257,23 @@ then
 patience
 in
 january
+shitty
+tapestry
+html
+sad
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
+month
+of
+snow
+snow
+html
+tax
+http
+www
+irs
+gov
+warm
+spot
+real-writer
+html
diff --git a/river/joke.river b/river/joke.river
index 323deb6..15305d1 100644
--- a/river/joke.river
+++ b/river/joke.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 joke
+id
+joke
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+33
+next
+title
+stump
+link
+stump
+title
+leaf
+link
+leaf
+prev
+title
+punch
+link
+punch
+title
+hymnal
+link
+hymnal
 he
 wrote
 jokes
@@ -255,3 +293,20 @@ there
 are
 no
 stars
+tell
+us
+a
+joke
+window
+html
+rises
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+last
+listener
+listen
+html
+stars
+big-dipper
+html
diff --git a/river/lappel-du-vide.river b/river/lappel-du-vide.river
index 3e0950f..6e6436c 100644
--- a/river/lappel-du-vide.river
+++ b/river/lappel-du-vide.river

@@ -1,6 +1,83 @@
+title
 l'appel
 du
 vide
+id
+lappel-du-vide
+genre
+prose
+epigraph
+content
+don't
+you
+know
+you
+can't
+go
+home
+again
+attrib
+ella
+winter
+link
+http
+books
+google
+com
+books
+id
+yybdmc0triwc
+pg
+pr12
+lpg
+pr12
+v
+onepage
+q
+f
+false
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+14
+next
+title
+boy
+on
+the
+bus
+link
+boy
+bus
+title
+i
+think
+it's
+you
+but
+it's
+not
+link
+i-think-its-you
+prev
+title
+ouroboros
+of
+memory
+link
+ouroboros
+memory
+title
+love
+as
+god
+link
+love-as-god
 i
 walter
 walter
@@ -287,10 +364,15 @@ best
 wasn't
 good
 enough
+accounting
+firm
+telemarketer
+html
 ii
 l'appel
 du
 vide
+verse
 and
 i'll
 get
@@ -360,3 +442,8 @@ the
 home
 i
 was
+rides
+the
+bus
+sense-of-it
+html
diff --git a/river/largest-asteroid.river b/river/largest-asteroid.river
index 02c836c..152252c 100644
--- a/river/largest-asteroid.river
+++ b/river/largest-asteroid.river

@@ -1,3 +1,5 @@
+title
 the
 largest
 asteroid
@@ -5,6 +7,19 @@ in
 the
 asteroid
 belt
+id
+largest-asteroid
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 what
 secrets
 does
@@ -167,3 +182,17 @@ nothing
 that
 actually
 is
+and
+nothing
+that
+actually
+is
+http
+www
+writing
+upenn
+edu
+afilreis
+88
+stevens-snowman
+html
diff --git a/river/last-bastion.river b/river/last-bastion.river
index 8b34223..ed48c59 100644
--- a/river/last-bastion.river
+++ b/river/last-bastion.river

@@ -1,5 +1,46 @@
+title
 last
 bastion
+id
+last-bastion
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+10
+next
+title
+amber
+alert
+link
+amber-alert
+title
+initial
+conditions
+link
+initial-conditions
+prev
+title
+the
+sixteenth
+chapel
+link
+sixteenth-chapel
+txt
+title
+boy
+on
+the
+bus
+link
+boy
+bus
 dimly
 remembered
 celebrity
@@ -28,6 +69,7 @@ who
 inherited
 the
 heart
+meek
 what
 was
 left
@@ -225,7 +267,25 @@ are
 reduced
 to
 husks
+heart
 blown
 dry
 by
 wind
+meek
+http
+biblehub
+com
+matthew
+5-5
+htm
+rats
+in-bed
+html
+mythical
+river
+music-433
+html
+heart
+sense-of-it
+html
diff --git a/river/last-passenger.river b/river/last-passenger.river
index 7a12de9..8a94c33 100644
--- a/river/last-passenger.river
+++ b/river/last-passenger.river

@@ -1,5 +1,26 @@
+title
 last
 passenger
+id
+last-passenger
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
+todo
+revise
+based
+on
+reading
+notes
 memory
 works
 strangely
@@ -169,3 +190,26 @@ on
 my
 broken
 shoulder
+spooling
+its
+thread
+roughgloves
+html
+nails
+of
+events
+when-im-sorry-i
+html
+into
+my
+throat
+and
+set
+me
+ringing
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
+beating
+wings
+cold-wind
+html
diff --git a/river/leaf.river b/river/leaf.river
index 535ede5..ffb7354 100644
--- a/river/leaf.river
+++ b/river/leaf.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 leaf
+id
+leaf
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+3
+next
+title
+writing
+link
+writing
+title
+leg
+link
+leg
+prev
+title
+axe
+link
+axe
+title
+joke
+link
+joke
 he
 shrugged
 the
@@ -161,3 +199,18 @@ some
 furniture
 he
 thought
+no
+bird
+did
+last-passenger
+html
+only
+be
+classified
+last-bastion
+html
+metaphor
+was
+fire
+the-night-we-met
+html
diff --git a/river/leg.river b/river/leg.river
index 94bf4a7..b6b0acb 100644
--- a/river/leg.river
+++ b/river/leg.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 leg
+id
+leg
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+12
+next
+title
+planks
+link
+planks
+title
+man
+link
+man
+prev
+title
+toilet
+link
+toilet
+title
+leaf
+link
+leaf
 his
 first
 chair
@@ -108,11 +146,13 @@ legs
 making
 chair
 legs
+1
 get
 longish
 piece
 of
 wood
+2
 cut
 it
 to
@@ -121,9 +161,11 @@ length
 feet
 i'd
 recommend
+3
 whittle
 off
 bark
+4
 sand
 smooth
 the
@@ -158,6 +200,7 @@ line
 on
 his
 notecard
+5
 make
 ends
 flat
@@ -174,3 +217,16 @@ ends
 of
 his
 leg
+uneven
+wobbly
+stool
+stump
+html
+one
+leg
+i-think-its-you
+html
+4
+feet
+boar
+html
diff --git a/river/likingthings.river b/river/likingthings.river
index 262efc0..2cddf3f 100644
--- a/river/likingthings.river
+++ b/river/likingthings.river

@@ -1,5 +1,25 @@
+title
 liking
 things
+id
+likingthings
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+7
+prev
+title
+problems
+link
+problems
 the
 definition
 of
@@ -499,3 +519,6 @@ on
 this
 earth
 happy-hungering
+shirt
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
diff --git a/river/listen.river b/river/listen.river
index 4b40f24..eb3482c 100644
--- a/river/listen.river
+++ b/river/listen.river

@@ -1,4 +1,19 @@
+title
 listen
+id
+listen
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 if
 you
 swallow
@@ -32,3 +47,22 @@ pawed
 at
 my
 back
+the
+sea
+pawed
+at
+my
+back
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+feel
+the
+stone
+serengeti
+html
+found
+the
+stone
+plant
+html
diff --git a/river/love-as-god.river b/river/love-as-god.river
index d2363ff..8a2bbd6 100644
--- a/river/love-as-god.river
+++ b/river/love-as-god.river

@@ -1,6 +1,46 @@
+title
 love
 as
 god
+id
+love-as-god
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+13
+next
+title
+worse
+looking
+over
+link
+worse-looking-over
+title
+l'appel
+du
+vide
+link
+lappel-du-vide
+prev
+title
+initial
+conditions
+link
+initial-conditions
+title
+ouroboros
+of
+memory
+link
+ouroboros
+memory
 god
 is
 love
@@ -251,6 +291,7 @@ if
 no
 god
 maybe
+maybe1
 this
 saying
 god
@@ -303,6 +344,8 @@ life
 is
 made
 of
+made
+of
 love
 that
 most
@@ -331,3 +374,49 @@ will
 be
 that
 is
+is
+i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
+html
+god
+is
+love
+https
+www
+biblegateway
+com
+passage
+search
+1
+john
+4
+3a8
+version
+niv
+what
+isn't
+largest-asteroid
+html
+one-set-of-footprints-in-the-sand
+http
+www
+footprints-inthe-sand
+com
+index
+php
+page
+poem
+poem
+php
+maybe1
+cereal
+html
+maybe2
+death-zone
+html
+epigraph
+epigraph
+html
+made
+of
+tapestry
+html
diff --git a/river/lovesong.river b/river/lovesong.river
index 740a7ea..dc2b4bd 100644
--- a/river/lovesong.river
+++ b/river/lovesong.river

@@ -1,5 +1,34 @@
+title
 love
 song
+id
+lovesong
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+15
+prev
+title
+how
+it
+happened
+link
+howithappened
+next
+title
+rough
+gloves
+link
+roughgloves
 walking
 along
 in
@@ -242,3 +271,11 @@ day
 sometimes
 we
 sleep
+old
+shirt
+ronaldmcdonald
+html
+every
+song
+swansong
+html
diff --git a/river/man.river b/river/man.river
index 37274bb..11d7a27 100644
--- a/river/man.river
+++ b/river/man.river

@@ -1,4 +1,67 @@
+title
 man
+id
+man
+genre
+prose
+ekphrastic
+image
+tbedemugshot
+jpg
+title
+this
+man
+refused
+to
+open
+his
+eyes
+link
+http
+collection
+hht
+net
+au
+firsthhtpictures
+fullrecordpicture
+jsp
+recnolistattr
+recnolist
+recno
+31230
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+22
+next
+title
+snow
+link
+snow
+title
+notes
+link
+notes
+prev
+title
+cereal
+link
+cereal
+title
+leg
+link
+leg
 this
 man
 refused
@@ -221,9 +284,9 @@ bede
 22
 11
 28
-/
 203
 a
+emilia
 this
 man
 refused
@@ -240,3 +303,16 @@ directly
 below
 his
 ribcage
+emilia
+http
+emiliaphillips
+com
+books
+signaletics
+bus
+boy
+bus
+html
+photograph
+about-the-author
+html
diff --git a/river/manifesto_poetics.river b/river/manifesto_poetics.river
index ad81294..ab5b5a9 100644
--- a/river/manifesto_poetics.river
+++ b/river/manifesto_poetics.river

@@ -1,6 +1,19 @@
+title
 manifesto
 of
 poetics
+id
+manifesto
+poetics
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
 what
 is
 a
@@ -59,28 +72,31 @@ in
 which
 one
 the
-speaker/writer/communicator
+speaker
+writer
+communicator
 gives
 the
 other
 the
-reader/listener/consumer
+reader
+listener
+consumer
 a
 set
 of
 ideas
-/
 a
 wireframe
 organization
 of
 a
 concept
-/
 a
 set
 of
-reasons/instructions
+reasons
+instructions
 for
 action
 in
@@ -101,7 +117,9 @@ ideas
 transacted
 are
 generally
-factual/logical/brain-based
+factual
+logical
+brain-based
 in
 nature
 in
@@ -109,7 +127,8 @@ art
 these
 ideas
 are
-emotional/heart-based
+emotional
+heart-based
 in
 short
 art
@@ -284,7 +303,8 @@ my
 voice
 as
 a
-poet/writer
+poet
+writer
 i
 personally
 don't
@@ -439,7 +459,9 @@ each
 section
 has
 a
-thematic/emotional/personal
+thematic
+emotional
+personal
 element
 that
 ties
@@ -573,3 +595,12 @@ i
 haven't
 been
 before
+let
+me
+start
+prelude
+html
+article
+readme
+html
+fn1
diff --git a/river/moon-drowning.river b/river/moon-drowning.river
index d03b60d..2ee6de4 100644
--- a/river/moon-drowning.river
+++ b/river/moon-drowning.river

@@ -1,7 +1,69 @@
+title
 the
 moon
 is
 drowning
+id
+moon-drowning
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+3
+next
+title
+something
+about
+all
+music
+being
+performances
+of
+4
+prime
+33
+prime
+in
+places
+where
+other
+bands
+happen
+to
+be
+playing
+link
+music-433
+title
+worse
+looking
+over
+link
+worse-looking-over
+prev
+title
+something
+about
+the
+nature
+of
+poetry
+and
+time
+link
+poetry-time
+title
+the
+big
+dipper
+link
+big-dipper
 the
 moon
 is
@@ -139,3 +201,9 @@ seducer
 as
 a
 lover
+the
+moon
+is
+drowning
+moongone
+html
diff --git a/river/moongone.river b/river/moongone.river
index dc2e312..2d47b79 100644
--- a/river/moongone.river
+++ b/river/moongone.river

@@ -1,3 +1,5 @@
+title
 the
 moon
 is
@@ -8,6 +10,49 @@ its
 place
 a
 mirror
+id
+moongone
+genre
+prose
+ekphrastic
+image
+moongone
+jpg
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+gone
+link
+http
+apod
+nasa
+gov
+apod
+ap120102
+html
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+18
+prev
+title
+ronald
+mcdonald
+link
+ronaldmcdonald
+next
+title
+the
+mountain
+link
+mountain
 the
 moon
 is
@@ -151,3 +196,9 @@ viewer
 is
 completely
 alone
+alone
+apollo11
+html
+earth
+serengeti
+html
diff --git a/river/mountain.river b/river/mountain.river
index 78d9850..19cbad8 100644
--- a/river/mountain.river
+++ b/river/mountain.river

@@ -1,5 +1,40 @@
+title
 the
 mountain
+id
+mountain
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+19
+prev
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+gone
+and
+in
+its
+place
+a
+mirror
+link
+moonegone
+next
+title
+serengeti
+link
+serengeti
 the
 other
 side
@@ -49,6 +84,7 @@ it
 is
 a
 dark
+apollo
 valley
 crossed
 by
@@ -104,3 +140,10 @@ is
 looking
 for
 home
+apollo
+apollo11
+html
+dusty
+pew
+and
+html
diff --git a/river/movingsideways.river b/river/movingsideways.river
index 17edefa..440f4d1 100644
--- a/river/movingsideways.river
+++ b/river/movingsideways.river

@@ -1,5 +1,30 @@
+title
 moving
 sideways
+id
+movingsideways
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+5
+next
+title
+problems
+link
+problems
+prev
+title
+proverbs
+link
+proverbs
 a
 dog
 moving
@@ -71,93 +96,8 @@ although
 quantum
 mechanics
 may
-disagreequantum
+disagree
-mechanics
+1
-as
-is
-well
-known
-are
-the
-most
-hornery
-and
-least
-agreeable
-of
-all
-mechanics
-the
-cost
-to
-get
-one
-quantum
-serviced
-is
-usually
-at
-least
-eight
-times
-more
-expensive
-than
-the
-cost
-of
-an
-average
-automobile
-tune-up
-for
-reasons
-not
-clearly
-known
-the
-quantum
-mechanics
-themselves
-claim
-it's
-the
-smallness
-of
-their
-work
-that
-justifies
-the
-price
-but
-it
-doesn't
-really
-look
-like
-they're
-doing
-anything
-and
-besides
-my
-quantum
-always
-seems
-to
-break
-again
-within
-six
-months
-maybe
-i'm
-just
-driving
-it
-too
-hard
 because
 obviously
 dogs
@@ -278,33 +218,7 @@ makes
 it
 all
 work
-i
+2
-attempted
-to
-strike
-this
-terrible
-pun
-from
-the
-account
-but
-hezekiah
-demanded
-i
-keep
-it
-if
-he
-were
-to
-continue
-the
-relation
-of
-his
-prophecy-slash-advice
-column
 in
 fact
 this
@@ -425,6 +339,7 @@ there
 is
 no
 backdrop
+backdrop
 against
 which
 to
@@ -443,3 +358,126 @@ right
 with
 the
 world
+inner
+pain
+telemarketer
+html
+backdrop
+philosophy
+html
+1
+quantum
+mechanics
+as
+is
+well
+known
+are
+the
+most
+hornery
+and
+least
+agreeable
+of
+all
+mechanics
+the
+cost
+to
+get
+one
+quantum
+serviced
+is
+usually
+at
+least
+eight
+times
+more
+expensive
+than
+the
+cost
+of
+an
+average
+automobile
+tune-up
+for
+reasons
+not
+clearly
+known
+the
+quantum
+mechanics
+themselves
+claim
+it's
+the
+smallness
+of
+their
+work
+that
+justifies
+the
+price
+but
+it
+doesn't
+really
+look
+like
+they're
+doing
+anything
+and
+besides
+my
+quantum
+always
+seems
+to
+break
+again
+within
+six
+months
+maybe
+i'm
+just
+driving
+it
+too
+hard
+2
+i
+attempted
+to
+strike
+this
+terrible
+pun
+from
+the
+account
+but
+hezekiah
+demanded
+i
+keep
+it
+if
+he
+were
+to
+continue
+the
+relation
+of
+his
+prophecy-slash-advice
+column
diff --git a/river/music-433.river b/river/music-433.river
index e69de29..f3997e5 100644
--- a/river/music-433.river
+++ b/river/music-433.river

@@ -0,0 +1,269 @@
+title
+something
+id
+music-433
+subtitle
+about
+all
+music
+being
+performances
+of
+4
+prime
+33
+prime
+in
+places
+where
+other
+bands
+happen
+to
+be
+playing
+genre
+verse
+dedication
+randall
+https
+xkcd
+com
+1199
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+18
+next
+title
+riptide
+of
+memory
+link
+riptide
+memory
+title
+about
+the
+author
+link
+about-the-author
+prev
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+drowning
+link
+moon-drowning
+title
+the
+sixteenth
+chapel
+link
+sixteenth-chapel
+silence
+lies
+underneath
+us
+all
+in
+the
+same
+way
+the
+nile
+has
+a
+river
+underneath
+ten
+times
+as
+large
+nile
+although
+this
+is
+an
+urban
+legend
+apparently
+so
+underneath
+truth
+or
+legend
+flowing
+by
+the
+feel
+of
+their
+own
+silence
+move
+the
+stars
+silence
+lies
+underneath
+us
+all
+in
+the
+same
+way
+john
+cage
+433
+i
+think
+understood
+this
+the
+way
+that
+in
+a
+silent
+room
+one
+still
+hears
+the
+nerves
+although
+this
+is
+an
+urban
+legend
+apparently
+or
+the
+heart
+which
+i
+find
+more
+easily
+believable
+there
+simply
+is
+no
+way
+that
+by
+and
+large
+silence
+lies
+underneath
+us
+all
+in
+the
+same
+way
+there
+must
+be
+different
+silences
+because
+we
+have
+different
+songs
+to
+drown
+them
+out
+different
+gods
+although
+these
+are
+urban
+legends
+apparently
+but
+is
+not
+all
+sound
+one
+sound
+you
+and
+i
+are
+two
+faces
+to
+the
+same
+head
+the
+same
+body
+silence
+lies
+underneath
+us
+all
+in
+the
+same
+way
+although
+this
+is
+an
+urban
+legend
+apparently
+433
+https
+www
+youtube
+com
+watch
+feature
+player
+detailpage
+v
+zy7uk-6aana
+t
+39
+truth
+phone
+html
+silence
+nothing-is-ever-over
+html
+songs
+swansong
+html
+sound
+one
+sound
+swansong-alt
+html
+nile
+http
+members
+authorsguild
+net
+svobodni
+resonance
+80307
+htm
+personals
diff --git a/river/no-nothing.river b/river/no-nothing.river
index e69de29..0426e67 100644
--- a/river/no-nothing.river
+++ b/river/no-nothing.river

@@ -0,0 +1,313 @@
+title
+no
+nothing
+id
+no-nothing
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
+while
+swimming
+in
+the
+river
+i
+saw
+underneath
+it
+a
+river
+of
+stars
+only
+there
+was
+no
+river
+it
+was
+noon
+you
+can
+say
+the
+sun
+is
+a
+river
+you
+can
+argue
+the
+stars
+back
+it
+like
+shirts
+behind
+a
+closet
+door
+you
+can
+say
+the
+earth
+holds
+us
+up
+with
+its
+weight
+or
+that
+it
+means
+well
+or
+it
+means
+anything
+there
+is
+no
+closet
+nor
+door
+there
+are
+no
+shirts
+hanging
+anywhere
+there
+is
+no
+false
+wall
+that
+leads
+deep
+into
+the
+earth's
+bowels
+growing
+warmer
+with
+each
+step
+warmth
+as
+a
+con
+cept
+has
+ceased
+to
+make
+any
+sense
+in
+contraposition
+to
+cold
+it
+might
+but
+cold
+as
+well
+stepped
+out
+last
+night
+and
+hasn't
+returned
+last
+i
+heard
+it
+went
+out
+swimming
+and
+might've
+drowned
+trees
+were
+the
+pallbearers
+at
+the
+funeral
+the
+train
+was
+long
+and
+wailful
+there
+was
+much
+wailing
+and
+gnashing
+of
+all
+teeth
+though
+there
+were
+no
+teeth
+no
+train
+no
+funeral
+or
+prayer
+or
+trees
+at
+all
+nor
+a
+river
+underneath
+any
+thing
+there
+was
+nothing
+to
+be
+underneath
+anymore
+look
+around
+and
+tell
+me
+you
+see
+something
+look
+around
+and
+tell
+me
+something
+that
+i
+do
+not
+know
+i
+know
+more
+than
+anything
+that
+the
+world
+is
+always
+ending
+behind
+that
+there
+is
+nothing
+save
+that
+there
+is
+no
+nothing
+either
+nothing
+somehow
+still
+turns
+and
+flows
+past
+us
+past
+all
+time
+and
+beyond
+it
+a
+river
+returning
+to
+its
+forgotten
+origins
+deep
+within
+itself
+swimming
+in
+the
+river
+father
+html
+shirts
+behind
+a
+closet
+lovessong
+html
+the
+earth
+big-dipper
+html
+nor
+door
+amber-alert
+html
+growing
+warmer
+real-writer
+html
+stepped
+out
+i-think-its-you
+html
+might've
+drowned
+in-bed
+html
+wailing
+and
+gnashing
+http
+biblehub
+com
+luke
+13-28
+htm
+river
+underneath
+howtoread
+html
+underneath
+it
+a
+river
+music-433
+html
diff --git a/river/notes.river b/river/notes.river
index 9fa6de7..10e3e58 100644
--- a/river/notes.river
+++ b/river/notes.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 notes
+id
+notes
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+8
+next
+title
+shed
+link
+shed
+title
+options
+link
+options
+prev
+title
+writing
+link
+writing
+title
+man
+link
+man
 paul
 began
 typing
@@ -176,3 +214,21 @@ not
 good
 at
 furniture
+even
+reports
+for
+work
+telemarketer
+html
+cold
+winter
+morning
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
+dream
+in-bed
+html
+still
+paul
+something-simple
+html
diff --git a/river/nothing-is-ever-over.river b/river/nothing-is-ever-over.river
index 962762d..6cee290 100644
--- a/river/nothing-is-ever-over.river
+++ b/river/nothing-is-ever-over.river

@@ -1,7 +1,22 @@
+title
 nothing
 is
 ever
 over
+id
+nothing-is-ever-over
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 nothing
 is
 ever
@@ -92,3 +107,29 @@ a
 dreamt
 torturous
 pain
+choking
+from
+a
+bad
+dream
+in-bed
+html
+nothing
+is
+ever
+over
+no-nothing
+html
+hasn't
+been
+cleft
+from
+the
+tree
+axe
+html
+betrays
+us
+again
+spittle
+html
diff --git a/river/on-genre-dimension.river b/river/on-genre-dimension.river
index 52bdca0..bc8fec1 100644
--- a/river/on-genre-dimension.river
+++ b/river/on-genre-dimension.river

@@ -1,3 +1,5 @@
+title
 on
 genre
 and
@@ -5,6 +7,19 @@ the
 dimensionality
 of
 poetry
+id
+on-genre-dimension
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 how
 does
 one
@@ -1164,3 +1179,56 @@ me
 a
 little
 uncomfortable
+lyrical
+ballads
+http
+www
+bartleby
+com
+39
+36
+html
+one
+and
+two
+dimensions
+http
+www
+vanderbilt
+edu
+ans
+psychology
+cogsci
+chaos
+workshop
+fractals
+html
+the
+love
+song
+of
+j
+alfred
+prufrock
+http
+www
+bartleby
+com
+198
+1
+html
+fragment
+statements-frag
+html
+different
+than
+a
+traditional
+narrative
+http
+numerocinqmagazine
+com
+2011
+03
+07
+translation-adaptation-and-transformation-the-poet-as-translator-an-essay-by-richard-jackson
diff --git a/river/onformalpoetry.river b/river/onformalpoetry.river
index 2c70736..af77a9e 100644
--- a/river/onformalpoetry.river
+++ b/river/onformalpoetry.river

@@ -1,6 +1,35 @@
+title
 on
 formal
 poetry
+id
+onformalpoetry
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+12
+prev
+title
+feeding
+the
+raven
+link
+feedingtheraven
+next
+title
+i
+am
+link
+i-am
 i
 think
 that
@@ -57,6 +86,7 @@ stitches
 on
 their
 knitting
+knitting
 keeping
 iambs
 next
@@ -121,3 +151,9 @@ hating
 what
 i
 write
+knitting
+roughgloves
+html
+mcnugget
+ronaldmcdonald
+html
diff --git a/river/options.river b/river/options.river
index 549b540..88e5e64 100644
--- a/river/options.river
+++ b/river/options.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 options
+id
+options
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+26
+next
+title
+stagnant
+link
+stagnant
+title
+paul
+link
+paul
+prev
+title
+swear
+link
+swear
+title
+notes
+link
+notes
 what
 did
 he
@@ -301,3 +339,16 @@ he
 consider
 quitting
 smoking
+dismember
+them
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
+what
+did
+he
+do
+with
+the
+desk
+finding-the-lion
+html
diff --git a/river/ouroboros_memory.river b/river/ouroboros_memory.river
index ee99799..c1f3415 100644
--- a/river/ouroboros_memory.river
+++ b/river/ouroboros_memory.river

@@ -1,6 +1,79 @@
+title
 ouroboros
 of
 memory
+id
+ouroboros
+memory
+genre
+prose
+epigraph
+content
+he
+used
+his
+body
+to
+remember
+his
+body
+but
+in
+the
+end
+could
+only
+remember
+the
+string
+attrib
+jonathan
+safran
+foer
+link
+http
+www
+bet-tal
+com
+index
+aspx
+id
+2315
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+12
+next
+title
+l'appel
+du
+vide
+link
+lappel-du-vide
+title
+love
+as
+god
+link
+love-as-god
+prev
+title
+table
+of
+contents
+link
+table
+contents
+title
+initial
+conditions
+link
+initial-conditions
 he
 said
 at
@@ -541,3 +614,7 @@ into
 a
 prenatal
 ball
+he
+said
+joke
+html
diff --git a/river/paul.river b/river/paul.river
index e1a28b2..b4d9057 100644
--- a/river/paul.river
+++ b/river/paul.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 paul
+id
+paul
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+38
+next
+title
+fire
+link
+fire
+title
+phone
+link
+phone
+prev
+title
+father
+link
+father
+title
+options
+link
+options
 contents
 of
 the
@@ -117,3 +155,6 @@ to
 start
 the
 fire
+pen
+howithappened
+html
diff --git a/river/peaches.river b/river/peaches.river
index 533ada7..246aa1f 100644
--- a/river/peaches.river
+++ b/river/peaches.river

@@ -1,4 +1,19 @@
+title
 peaches
+id
+peaches
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 my
 anger
 is
@@ -176,6 +191,7 @@ about
 his
 car
 accident
+sebastian
 a
 year
 ago
@@ -771,3 +787,55 @@ it'll
 be
 a
 peach
+prufrock
+http
+www
+bartleby
+com
+198
+1
+html
+october
+axe
+html
+sebastian
+http
+www
+32poems
+com
+blog
+5158
+weekly-prose-feature-an-interview-with-sebastian-matthews-by-justin-bigos
+anger
+is
+like
+sex
+statements-frag
+html
+peachtree
+streets
+https
+www
+google
+com
+maps
+place
+peachtree
+rd
+ne
+atlanta
+ga
+33
+7779425
+-84
+3843615
+my
+mother
+riptide
+memory
+html
+popcorn
+video
+http
+popcornvideo
+net
diff --git a/river/philosophy.river b/river/philosophy.river
index f6a9b01..f302358 100644
--- a/river/philosophy.river
+++ b/river/philosophy.river

@@ -1,4 +1,32 @@
+title
 philosophy
+id
+philosophy
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+3
+next
+title
+proverbs
+link
+proverbs
+prev
+title
+the
+purpose
+of
+dogs
+link
+purpose-dogs
 importance
 is
 important
@@ -225,3 +253,9 @@ i
 must
 try
 again
+modification
+i-am
+html
+raw
+spittle
+html
diff --git a/river/phone.river b/river/phone.river
index b952822..e2c8b9f 100644
--- a/river/phone.river
+++ b/river/phone.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 phone
+id
+phone
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+16
+next
+title
+tapestry
+link
+tapestry
+title
+planks
+link
+planks
+prev
+title
+treatise
+link
+treatise
+title
+paul
+link
+paul
 hello
 paul
 this
@@ -244,3 +282,12 @@ her
 glasses
 reflecting
 dominoes
+said
+the
+woman's
+voice
+telemarketer
+html
+supermarket
+last-bastion
+html
diff --git a/river/planks.river b/river/planks.river
index 1dc145c..a21a4ec 100644
--- a/river/planks.river
+++ b/river/planks.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 planks
+id
+planks
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+13
+next
+title
+hardware
+link
+hardware
+title
+punch
+link
+punch
+prev
+title
+leg
+link
+leg
+title
+phone
+link
+phone
 everything
 changes
 or
@@ -145,3 +183,22 @@ and
 did
 not
 echo
+everything
+changes
+or
+everything
+swear
+html
+stays
+the
+same
+howtoread
+html
+blankness
+in-bed
+html
+did
+not
+echo
+last-passenger
+html
diff --git a/river/plant.river b/river/plant.river
index 13df8de..370aca9 100644
--- a/river/plant.river
+++ b/river/plant.river

@@ -1,7 +1,22 @@
+title
 litany
 for
 a
 plant
+id
+plant
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 need
 a
@@ -637,3 +652,126 @@ needing
 more
 than
 me
+blackdirt
+building
+html
+thin
+green
+window
+window
+html
+magic
+cereal
+html
+to
+rest
+their
+heads
+riptide
+memory
+html
+forestroads
+http
+www
+bartleby
+com
+119
+1
+html
+purple
+mountains
+majesty
+http
+www
+wrensworld
+com
+purpmount
+htm
+snowquiet
+deadbranch
+100-lines
+html
+to
+youngnesses
+giving
+way
+to
+oldnesses
+about-the-author
+html
+fish
+swimming
+proverbs
+html
+i
+need
+whisper
+at
+dawn
+apollo11
+html
+branchcrotch
+epigraph
+html
+moonlight
+finding-the-lion
+html
+greennesses
+of
+creases
+and
+caresses
+the-sea
+the-beach
+html
+groaning
+feedingtheraven
+html
+pearl
+held
+out
+in
+a
+hand
+roughgloves
+html
+to
+know
+the
+snake
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+unknowing
+terrible
+sleep
+in-bed
+html
+of
+flame
+to
+lick
+at
+old
+wounds
+fire
+html
+faces
+to
+the
+windblown
+sun
+no-nothing
+html
+the
+opposite
+of
+dust
+https
+samofthetenthousandthings
+wordpress
+com
+2012
+09
+08
+charles-wright-reads-james-wright-the-journey-audio-poem
diff --git a/river/poetry-time.river b/river/poetry-time.river
index 4e6450e..fd32141 100644
--- a/river/poetry-time.river
+++ b/river/poetry-time.river

@@ -1,4 +1,9 @@
+title
 something
+id
+poetry-time
+subtitle
 about
 the
 nature
@@ -6,6 +11,42 @@ of
 poetry
 and
 time
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+5
+next
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+drowning
+link
+moon-drowning
+title
+amber
+alert
+link
+amber-alert
+prev
+title
+the
+big
+dipper
+link
+big-dipper
+title
+worse
+looking
+over
+link
+worse-looking-over
 i'm
 writing
 this
@@ -349,3 +390,30 @@ keep
 between
 us
 two
+electrons
+momentarily
+entwined
+treatise
+html
+spider's
+thread
+last-passenger
+html
+a
+figment
+epigraph
+html
+some
+other
+version
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
+when
+you're
+older
+found-typewriter-poem
+html
+dear
+reader
+real-writer
+html
diff --git a/river/prelude.river b/river/prelude.river
index 899198d..8759773 100644
--- a/river/prelude.river
+++ b/river/prelude.river

@@ -1,4 +1,27 @@
+title
 prelude
+id
+prelude
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+1
+next
+title
+the
+purpose
+of
+dogs
+link
+purpose-dogs
 of
 course
 there
@@ -44,3 +67,24 @@ mind
 let's
 start
 over
+there
+is
+a
+god
+boar
+html
+there
+is
+no
+god
+todo
+bonnie
+prince
+billie
+youtube
+shit
+january
+html
+important
+building
+html
diff --git a/river/problems.river b/river/problems.river
index ac0ad16..d9a0b24 100644
--- a/river/problems.river
+++ b/river/problems.river

@@ -1,4 +1,31 @@
+title
 problems
+id
+problems
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+6
+next
+title
+liking
+things
+link
+likingthings
+prev
+title
+moving
+sideways
+link
+movingsideways
 the
 problem
 with
@@ -135,41 +162,7 @@ good
 enough
 for
 me
-this
+1
-seems
-to
-be
-an
-attempt
-on
-hezzy's
-part
-to
-set
-an
-example
-for
-mankind
-it
-should
-be
-noted
-that
-he
-is
-an
-alcoholic
-and
-not
-in
-any
-shape
-to
-be
-an
-example
-to
-anyone
 i
 think
 that
@@ -210,21 +203,8 @@ their
 love
 for
 women's
-stockingsit
+stockings
-is
+2
-thought
-that
-only
-the
-leg
-coverings
-of
-the
-female
-sex
-are
-here
-referenced
 that
 there
 is
@@ -282,39 +262,7 @@ are
 no
 other
 levels
-you
+3
-have
-hereby
-found
-the
-super
-special
-secret
-cheat
-code
-room
-yes
-this
-is
-just
-like
-super
-mario
-brothers
-you
-can
-skip
-right
-to
-the
-end
-go
-and
-face
-the
-final
-boss
-already
 what's
 more
 people
@@ -415,9 +363,7 @@ a
 good
 stiff
 drink
-see
+4
-footnote
-above
 in
 any
 case
@@ -526,3 +472,103 @@ wish
 they
 were
 dogs
+big
+picture
+ronaldmcdonald
+html
+sitting
+in
+a
+buiding
+feedingtheraven
+html
+1
+this
+seems
+to
+be
+an
+attempt
+on
+hezzy's
+part
+to
+set
+an
+example
+for
+mankind
+it
+should
+be
+noted
+that
+he
+is
+an
+alcoholic
+and
+not
+in
+any
+shape
+to
+be
+an
+example
+to
+anyone
+2
+it
+is
+thought
+that
+only
+the
+leg
+coverings
+of
+the
+female
+sex
+are
+here
+referenced
+3
+you
+have
+hereby
+found
+the
+super
+special
+secret
+cheat
+code
+room
+yes
+this
+is
+just
+like
+super
+mario
+brothers
+you
+can
+skip
+right
+to
+the
+end
+go
+and
+face
+the
+final
+boss
+already
+4
+see
+footnote
+above
diff --git a/river/proverbs.river b/river/proverbs.river
index 523a661..ed15c4f 100644
--- a/river/proverbs.river
+++ b/river/proverbs.river

@@ -1,4 +1,30 @@
+title
 proverbs
+id
+proverbs
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+4
+next
+title
+moving
+sideways
+link
+movingsideways
+prev
+title
+philosophy
+link
+philosophy
 nothing
 matters
 everything
@@ -9,17 +35,8 @@ matters
 nothing
 is
 sacred
-thank
+sacred
-you
+1
-tom
-stoppard
-ha
-ha
-ho
-ho
-and
-hee
-hee
 this
 is
 the
@@ -150,6 +167,7 @@ steamed
 at
 any
 time
+rosebush
 the
 dog
 looks
@@ -175,6 +193,26 @@ wants
 to
 be
 observed
+2
+sacred
+words-meaning
+html
+rosebush
+lovesong
+html
+1
+thank
+you
+tom
+stoppard
+ha
+ha
+ho
+ho
+and
+hee
+hee
+2
 ah
 ha
 i
@@ -317,3 +355,12 @@ fish
 represents
 reality
 here
+tom
+stoppard
+http
+www
+thesatirist
+com
+books
+cowgirlblues
+html
diff --git a/river/punch.river b/river/punch.river
index fc74ca2..0f89cda 100644
--- a/river/punch.river
+++ b/river/punch.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 punch
+id
+punch
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+32
+next
+title
+joke
+link
+joke
+title
+question
+link
+question
+prev
+title
+wallpaper
+link
+wallpaper
+title
+planks
+link
+planks
 when
 he
 finally
@@ -212,3 +250,13 @@ in
 his
 right
 hand
+fisheye
+hands
+html
+frosting
+flowers
+big-dipper
+html
+gauze
+100-lines
+html
diff --git a/river/purpose-dogs.river b/river/purpose-dogs.river
index 2757b6c..024c712 100644
--- a/river/purpose-dogs.river
+++ b/river/purpose-dogs.river

@@ -1,7 +1,32 @@
+title
 the
 purpose
 of
 dogs
+id
+purpose-dogs
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+book
+of
+hezekiah
+class
+hezekiah
+order
+2
+next
+title
+philosophy
+link
+philosophy
+prev
+title
+prelude
+link
+prelude
 okay
 so
 as
@@ -257,3 +282,10 @@ let
 me
 start
 again
+the
+prelude
+prelude
+html
+shit
+feedingtheraven
+html
diff --git a/river/question.river b/river/question.river
index d09b12c..6488dd4 100644
--- a/river/question.river
+++ b/river/question.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 question
+id
+question
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+19
+next
+title
+sapling
+link
+sapling
+title
+reports
+link
+reports
+prev
+title
+window
+link
+window
+title
+punch
+link
+punch
 do
 you
 have
@@ -54,6 +92,7 @@ he
 couldn't
 quite
 remember
+remember
 jill
 said
 sorry
@@ -266,3 +305,7 @@ himself
 but
 didn't
 speak
+remember
+riptide
+memory
+html
diff --git a/river/real-writer.river b/river/real-writer.river
index 1667879..75673e6 100644
--- a/river/real-writer.river
+++ b/river/real-writer.river

@@ -1,6 +1,21 @@
+title
 a
 real
 writer
+id
+real-writer
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 sometimes
 i
 feel
@@ -291,3 +306,58 @@ about
 nothing
 but
 furniture
+i
+don't
+smoke
+cereal
+html
+strange
+dreams
+in-bed
+html
+a
+hand
+with
+all
+its
+dead
+symbology
+roughgloves
+html
+my
+teeth
+have
+fallen
+out
+no-nothing
+html
+like
+salt
+i-am
+html
+i
+live
+in
+a
+place
+with
+rain
+riptide
+memory
+html
+or
+clean
+when-im-sorry-i
+html
+i'll
+watch
+television
+about-the-author
+html
+your
+god
+love-as-god
+html
+furniture
+leaf
+html
diff --git a/river/reports.river b/river/reports.river
index 4607606..3750a5a 100644
--- a/river/reports.river
+++ b/river/reports.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 reports
+id
+reports
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+24
+next
+title
+swear
+link
+swear
+title
+sapling
+link
+sapling
+prev
+title
+snow
+link
+snow
+title
+question
+link
+question
 paul
 you
 can't
@@ -29,6 +67,7 @@ had
 spent
 the
 weekend
+1
 going
 to
 the
@@ -50,6 +89,7 @@ after
 his
 first
 payday
+2
 replacing
 the
 ribbon
@@ -73,6 +113,7 @@ out
 on
 his
 own
+3
 opening
 the
 package
@@ -101,6 +142,7 @@ it
 was
 just
 easier
+4
 carefully
 typing
 the
@@ -201,3 +243,9 @@ and
 left
 his
 cubicle
+she
+shook
+her
+head
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
diff --git a/river/riptide_memory.river b/river/riptide_memory.river
index cc3136a..b4bfe70 100644
--- a/river/riptide_memory.river
+++ b/river/riptide_memory.river

@@ -1,6 +1,68 @@
+title
 riptide
 of
 memory
+id
+riptide
+memory
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+16
+next
+title
+about
+the
+author
+link
+about-the-author
+title
+the
+sixteenth
+chapel
+link
+sixteenth-chapel
+prev
+title
+something
+about
+all
+music
+being
+performances
+of
+4
+prime
+33
+prime
+in
+places
+where
+other
+bands
+happen
+to
+be
+playing
+link
+music-433
+title
+i
+think
+it's
+you
+but
+it's
+not
+link
+i-think-its-you
 inside
 of
 my
@@ -233,3 +295,35 @@ air
 like
 a
 memory
+an
+angel
+of
+death
+angeltoabraham
+html
+my
+father
+is
+caught
+by
+a
+riptide
+father
+html
+memory
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+another
+shipwreck
+shipwright
+html
+ghost
+100-lines
+html
+stars
+above
+the
+mountains
+finding-the-lion
+html
diff --git a/river/ronaldmcdonald.river b/river/ronaldmcdonald.river
index a7426f3..9667a64 100644
--- a/river/ronaldmcdonald.river
+++ b/river/ronaldmcdonald.river

@@ -1,5 +1,41 @@
+title
 ronald
 mcdonald
+id
+ronaldmcdonald
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+17
+prev
+title
+rough
+gloves
+link
+roughgloves
+next
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+gone
+and
+in
+its
+place
+a
+mirror
+link
+moongone
 when
 ronald
 mcdonald
@@ -232,3 +268,11 @@ do
 who
 we
 are
+striped
+shirt
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
+yellow
+gloves
+roughgloves
+html
diff --git a/river/roughgloves.river b/river/roughgloves.river
index c60e6e9..3b560af 100644
--- a/river/roughgloves.river
+++ b/river/roughgloves.river

@@ -1,10 +1,37 @@
+title
 rough
 gloves
+id
+roughgloves
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+16
+prev
+title
+love
+song
+link
+lovesong
+next
+title
+ronald
+mcdonald
+link
+ronaldmcdonald
 i
 lost
 my
 hands
-&
 knit
 replacement
 ones
@@ -25,7 +52,6 @@ they
 do
 on
 nails
-&
 your
 collarbone
 you
@@ -116,3 +142,20 @@ a
 spider's
 blackened
 maw
+cheek
+or
+thigh
+feedingtheraven
+html
+break
+a
+hand
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
+maw
+serengeti
+html
+spiders
+threads
+poetry-time
+html
diff --git a/river/sapling.river b/river/sapling.river
index 9c88692..c72e0b7 100644
--- a/river/sapling.river
+++ b/river/sapling.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 sapling
+id
+sapling
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+20
+next
+title
+cereal
+link
+cereal
+title
+shed
+link
+shed
+prev
+title
+question
+link
+question
+title
+reports
+link
+reports
 he
 chopped
 down
@@ -278,3 +316,17 @@ you've
 got
 a
 brain
+the
+tree
+that
+fell
+in
+the
+forest
+options
+html
+bound
+to
+another
+last-passenger
+html
diff --git a/river/seasonal-affective-disorder.river b/river/seasonal-affective-disorder.river
index f808502..c6062ae 100644
--- a/river/seasonal-affective-disorder.river
+++ b/river/seasonal-affective-disorder.river

@@ -1,6 +1,21 @@
+title
 seasonal
 affective
 disorder
+id
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 on
 your
 desk
@@ -53,17 +68,14 @@ that
 night
 your
 aunt
-/
 you
 never
 have
 been
-/
 you
 shook
 that
 night
-/
 seasonal
 affective
 disorder
@@ -103,3 +115,30 @@ an
 engagement
 ring
 winter-returned
+winter
+january
+html
+cemetery
+grass
+death-zone
+html
+blowing
+through
+buildings
+building
+html
+you
+shook
+that
+night
+the-night-we-met
+html
+mutter
+under
+your
+breath
+on
+the
+highway
+last-bastion
+html
diff --git a/river/sense-of-it.river b/river/sense-of-it.river
index 85a1ed4..694c51a 100644
--- a/river/sense-of-it.river
+++ b/river/sense-of-it.river

@@ -1,6 +1,21 @@
+title
 sense
 of
 it
+id
+sense-of-it
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 only
 write
@@ -85,6 +100,7 @@ song
 stop
 making
 sense
+stop
 is
 about
 a
@@ -150,3 +166,38 @@ make
 sense
 of
 it
+stop
+https
+www
+youtube
+com
+watch
+v
+9r7x3f2gfz4
+this
+is
+the
+most
+beautiful
+thing
+i've
+ever
+seen
+https
+www
+youtube
+com
+watch
+v
+qssvnjj5moo
+the
+wind
+cold-wind
+html
+lying
+the-night-we-met
+html
+the
+bus
+stagnant
+html
diff --git a/river/serengeti.river b/river/serengeti.river
index 4790ee3..b26be9f 100644
--- a/river/serengeti.river
+++ b/river/serengeti.river

@@ -1,4 +1,32 @@
+title
 serengeti
+id
+serengeti
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+20
+prev
+title
+the
+mountain
+link
+mountain
+next
+title
+the
+shipwright
+link
+shipwright
 the
 self
 is
@@ -73,6 +101,7 @@ eyes
 of
 a
 predator
+formal
 they
 are
 coming
@@ -106,3 +135,9 @@ crouch
 hoping
 for
 silence
+formal
+onformalpoetry
+html
+running
+squirrel
+html
diff --git a/river/shed.river b/river/shed.river
index a9384bd..2f110be 100644
--- a/river/shed.river
+++ b/river/shed.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 shed
+id
+shed
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+9
+next
+title
+hands
+link
+hands
+title
+snow
+link
+snow
+prev
+title
+notes
+link
+notes
+title
+sapling
+link
+sapling
 what
 do
 you
@@ -147,3 +185,16 @@ until
 then
 she
 said
+wasting
+your
+life
+http
+www
+poetryfoundation
+org
+poem
+177229
+this
+furniture
+real-writer
+html
diff --git a/river/shipwright.river b/river/shipwright.river
index 9115d60..ede1a55 100644
--- a/river/shipwright.river
+++ b/river/shipwright.river

@@ -1,5 +1,31 @@
+title
 the
 shipwright
+id
+shipwright
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+21
+prev
+title
+serengeti
+link
+serengeti
+next
+title
+spittle
+link
+spittle
 he
 builds
 a
@@ -157,3 +183,10 @@ apart
 on
 its
 own
+louder
+apollo11
+html
+finally
+blows
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
diff --git a/river/sixteenth-chapel.river b/river/sixteenth-chapel.river
index 3fa0d78..b915cf3 100644
--- a/river/sixteenth-chapel.river
+++ b/river/sixteenth-chapel.river

@@ -1,6 +1,82 @@
+title
 the
 sixteenth
 chapel
+id
+sixteenth-chapel
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+canadian
+high
+school
+attrib
+david
+letterman
+link
+https
+www
+youtube
+com
+watch
+v
+pi
+pwlyeoqk
+dedication
+max
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+17
+next
+title
+last
+bastion
+link
+last-bastion
+title
+something
+about
+all
+music
+being
+performances
+of
+4
+prime
+33
+prime
+in
+places
+where
+other
+bands
+happen
+to
+be
+playing
+link
+music-433
+prev
+title
+worse
+looking
+over
+link
+worse-looking-over
+title
+riptide
+of
+memory
+link
+riptide
+memory
 if
 justin
 bieber
@@ -350,3 +426,49 @@ sixteenth
 chapel
 holds
 death
+role
+words-meaning
+html
+death
+deathstrumpet
+html
+opposite
+of
+death
+death-zone
+html
+creation
+creation-myth
+html
+judgment
+movingsideways
+html
+forgotten
+the
+date
+riptide
+memory
+html
+be
+a
+father
+i-am
+html
+forever
+youth
+about-the-author
+html
+the
+name
+becomes
+a
+christ
+nothing-is-ever-over
+html
+life
+rolls
+to
+death
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
diff --git a/river/snow.river b/river/snow.river
index 3e2afff..fcb25d4 100644
--- a/river/snow.river
+++ b/river/snow.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 snow
+id
+snow
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+23
+next
+title
+reports
+link
+reports
+title
+stagnant
+link
+stagnant
+prev
+title
+man
+link
+man
+title
+shed
+link
+shed
 i
 don't
 care
@@ -88,6 +126,7 @@ what
 he
 was
 thinking
+thinking
 he
 decided
 to
@@ -233,3 +272,32 @@ nothing
 on
 its
 own
+i
+don't
+care
+if
+they
+burn
+fire
+html
+thundercloud
+serengeti
+html
+thinking
+lappel-du-vide
+html
+how
+they
+formed
+rows
+axe
+html
+the
+snow
+100-lines
+html
+does
+that
+too
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+html
diff --git a/river/something-simple.river b/river/something-simple.river
index 74a20ef..95e1865 100644
--- a/river/something-simple.river
+++ b/river/something-simple.river

@@ -1,8 +1,23 @@
+title
 let's
 start
 with
 something
 simple
+id
+something-simple
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 in
 mammals
 the
@@ -107,9 +122,13 @@ the
 moon
 caring
 father
+moon
 looks
 down
 from
 a
 dispassionate
 sky
+moon
+moon-drowning
+html
diff --git a/river/spittle.river b/river/spittle.river
index ed4e065..478db09 100644
--- a/river/spittle.river
+++ b/river/spittle.river

@@ -1,4 +1,32 @@
+title
 spittle
+id
+spittle
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+22
+prev
+title
+the
+shipwright
+link
+shipwright
+next
+title
+the
+squirrel
+link
+squirrel
 my
 body
 is
@@ -115,3 +143,9 @@ the
 wetness
 of
 emotion
+god
+howithappened
+html
+shirt-sleeve
+lovesong
+html
diff --git a/river/squirrel.river b/river/squirrel.river
index 38322c6..7fec484 100644
--- a/river/squirrel.river
+++ b/river/squirrel.river

@@ -1,5 +1,32 @@
+title
 the
 squirrel
+id
+squirrel
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+23
+prev
+title
+spittle
+link
+spittle
+next
+title
+swan
+song
+link
+swansong
 he
 is
 so
@@ -127,3 +154,10 @@ in
 who
 they
 are
+birds
+singing
+mountain
+html
+dance
+movingsideways
+html
diff --git a/river/stagnant.river b/river/stagnant.river
index fdfffee..cb3df63 100644
--- a/river/stagnant.river
+++ b/river/stagnant.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 stagnant
+id
+stagnant
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+27
+next
+title
+building
+link
+building
+title
+stump
+link
+stump
+prev
+title
+options
+link
+options
+title
+snow
+link
+snow
 riding
 the
 bus
@@ -236,3 +274,41 @@ one
 on
 the
 bus
+he
+was
+surprised
+that
+he
+was
+the
+only
+one
+on
+the
+bus
+stayed-on-the-bus
+html
+yelling
+over
+a
+hard
+wind
+sense-of-it
+html
+they
+were
+dry
+in
+the
+winter
+air
+hands
+html
+yelling
+to
+him
+over
+the
+wind
+cold-wind
+html
diff --git a/river/statements-frag.river b/river/statements-frag.river
index 031c13d..8b16227 100644
--- a/river/statements-frag.river
+++ b/river/statements-frag.river

@@ -1,8 +1,25 @@
+title
 statements
+id
+statements-frag
+subtitle
 a
 fragment
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 eli
+eli
 can
 one
 truly
@@ -20,7 +37,6 @@ was
 in
 the
 bathroom
-&
 had
 taken
 the
@@ -384,13 +400,14 @@ me
 slowly
 ii
 dimorphic
+dimorphic
+verse
 oranges
 poison
 a
 compromise
 between
 mary
-&
 judas
 blue
 baby
@@ -448,6 +465,7 @@ iii
 declaration
 of
 poetry
+declaration-of-poetry
 you
 have
 to
@@ -468,3 +486,32 @@ first
 or
 second
 line
+judas
+spittle
+html
+wallpaper
+wallpaper
+html
+i
+said
+go
+home
+now
+lappel-du-vide
+html
+go
+home
+now
+riptide
+memory
+html
+oranges
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
+drown
+you
+under
+the
+moon
+moon-drowning
+html
diff --git a/river/stayed-on-the-bus.river b/river/stayed-on-the-bus.river
index 18e337b..ea2c88e 100644
--- a/river/stayed-on-the-bus.river
+++ b/river/stayed-on-the-bus.river

@@ -1,9 +1,24 @@
+title
 stayed
 on
 the
 bus
 too
 long
+id
+stayed-on-the-bus
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 it
 was
 a
@@ -61,3 +76,16 @@ getting
 off
 too
 soon
+gamble
+hard-game
+html
+i
+have
+to
+walk
+now
+lappel-du-vide
+html
+traffic
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
diff --git a/river/stump.river b/river/stump.river
index 6fc5d28..a4e24b9 100644
--- a/river/stump.river
+++ b/river/stump.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 stump
+id
+stump
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+34
+next
+title
+early
+link
+early
+title
+swear
+link
+swear
+prev
+title
+joke
+link
+joke
+title
+stagnant
+link
+stagnant
 he
 walked
 into
@@ -217,3 +255,24 @@ you
 cannot
 discover
 art
+there
+was
+no
+sound
+but
+his
+footsteps
+his
+breathing
+music-433
+html
+a
+squirrel
+squirrel
+html
+leaves
+of
+the
+trees
+death-zone
+html
diff --git a/river/swansong-alt.river b/river/swansong-alt.river
index 70a16c6..3b027c9 100644
--- a/river/swansong-alt.river
+++ b/river/swansong-alt.river

@@ -1,6 +1,22 @@
+title
 swansong
+id
+swansong-alt
+subtitle
 alternate
 version
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 this
 poem
 is
@@ -154,3 +170,50 @@ and
 nothing
 in
 it
+chapped
+lips
+time-looks-up-to-the-sky
+html
+it
+is
+hard
+as
+teeth
+no-nothing
+html
+reading
+poetry-time
+html
+you
+are
+not
+you
+about-the-author
+html
+you
+are
+the
+air
+the
+swan
+walks
+on
+swansong
+html
+that
+separates
+me
+from
+you
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
+fire
+fire
+html
+the
+air
+without
+a
+swan
+finding-the-lion
+html
diff --git a/river/swansong.river b/river/swansong.river
index 64b8417..e33aaf8 100644
--- a/river/swansong.river
+++ b/river/swansong.river

@@ -1,5 +1,32 @@
+title
 swan
 song
+id
+swansong
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+24
+prev
+title
+the
+squirrel
+link
+squirrel
+next
+title
+telemarketer
+link
+telemarketer
 swans
 fly
 overhead
@@ -11,6 +38,7 @@ walkers
 of
 the
 earth
+ithappened
 you
 point
 to
@@ -32,6 +60,7 @@ the
 swans
 walk
 on
+alt
 as
 they
 journey
@@ -89,6 +118,7 @@ air
 without
 a
 swan
+trumpet
 together
 we
 are
@@ -112,3 +142,15 @@ and
 nothing
 in
 it
+ithappened
+howithappened
+html
+mirror
+moongone
+html
+trumpet
+deathstrumpet
+html
+alt
+swansong-alt
+html
diff --git a/river/swear.river b/river/swear.river
index 86449ea..9c415c8 100644
--- a/river/swear.river
+++ b/river/swear.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 swear
+id
+swear
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+25
+next
+title
+options
+link
+options
+title
+tapestry
+link
+tapestry
+prev
+title
+reports
+link
+reports
+title
+stump
+link
+stump
 everything
 changes
 or
@@ -237,3 +275,20 @@ out
 into
 the
 woods
+everything
+changes
+or
+everything
+stays
+the
+same
+planks
+html
+hoop
+ourobors
+memory
+html
+writing
+desk
+finding-the-lion
+html
diff --git a/river/table_contents.river b/river/table_contents.river
index 0a5bc6a..bab177e 100644
--- a/river/table_contents.river
+++ b/river/table_contents.river

@@ -1,6 +1,65 @@
+title
 table
 of
 contents
+id
+table
+contents
+genre
+verse
+epigraph
+content
+we
+are
+awash
+in
+the
+unseen
+and
+science
+has
+made
+us
+aware
+of
+the
+flood
+link
+http
+www
+npr
+org
+blogs
+13
+7
+2013
+11
+05
+243081116
+dark-matter-eludes-capture-science-and-the-unseen
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+1
+next
+title
+ouroboros
+of
+memory
+link
+ouroboros
+memory
+title
+the
+big
+dipper
+link
+big-dipper
 4
 the
 look
@@ -193,3 +252,188 @@ old
 men
 at
 dusk
+the
+look
+she
+gave
+me
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+not
+out
+of
+anger
+lappel-du-vide
+html
+a
+desire
+to
+understand
+boy
+bus
+html
+seven
+syllables
+amble
+i-think-its-you
+html
+to
+drink
+at
+the
+pond
+initial-conditions
+html
+two
+fall
+in
+and
+drown
+love-as-god
+html
+odd-numbered
+ponies
+worse-looking-over
+html
+buck
+and
+whinny
+in
+the
+moonlight
+sixteenth-chapel
+html
+to
+die
+tomorrow
+last-bastion
+html
+to
+be
+everywhere
+amber-alert
+html
+all
+at
+one
+time
+my
+motto
+exasperated
+html
+of
+a
+perfect
+world
+death-zone
+html
+this
+morning
+the
+sun
+big-dipper
+html
+wandering
+through
+the
+window
+poetry-time
+html
+alights
+on
+my
+shoulder
+moon-drowning
+html
+liquid
+messenger
+music-433
+html
+after
+a
+gate
+closes
+dogs
+bark
+riptide
+memory
+html
+finding
+old
+men
+at
+dusk
+about-the-author
+html
+a
+phone
+conversation
+phone
+html
+that
+in
+hell
+telemarketer
+html
+pay
+the
+toll
+no-nothing
+html
+misattributed
+howithappened
+html
+disassociated
+howtoread
+html
+advice
+from
+a
+cereal
+box
+cereal
+html
+the
+challenges
+of
+call-me-aural-pleasure
+html
+dream
+in-bed
+html
+two
+friends
+throw
+dice
+deadman
+html
+fears
+of
+death
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
+solipsist
+talks
+to
+god
+boar
+html
+the
+horse
+races
+100-lines
+html
+good
+morning
+big-dipper
+html
+waiting
+on
+the
+mountain
+mountain
+html
+love
+lovesong
+html
diff --git a/river/tapestry.river b/river/tapestry.river
index c16e810..e9d3702 100644
--- a/river/tapestry.river
+++ b/river/tapestry.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 tapestry
+id
+tapestry
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+17
+next
+title
+window
+link
+window
+title
+toilet
+link
+toilet
+prev
+title
+phone
+link
+phone
+title
+swear
+link
+swear
 apparently
 typewriters
 need
@@ -253,3 +291,18 @@ top
 of
 this
 notecard
+weave
+likingthings
+html
+weave
+what
+roughgloves
+html
+memory
+ouroboros
+memory
+html
+or
+dream
+in-bed
+html
diff --git a/river/telemarketer.river b/river/telemarketer.river
index 1818e85..db3ffe8 100644
--- a/river/telemarketer.river
+++ b/river/telemarketer.river

@@ -1,4 +1,35 @@
+title
+telemarketer
+id
 telemarketer
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+25
+prev
+title
+swan
+song
+link
+swansong
+next
+title
+we
+played
+those
+games
+too
+link
+weplayedthosegamestoo
 it
 was
 one
@@ -243,7 +274,8 @@ the
 same
 way
 hi
-mr/mrs
+mr
+mrs
 customer's
 name
 my
@@ -687,3 +719,17 @@ minute
 and
 hung
 up
+ocean
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+html
+eagle
+perched
+mountain
+html
+bigger
+pain
+arspoetica
+html
+report
+reports
+html
diff --git a/river/the-night-we-met.river b/river/the-night-we-met.river
index e5be9d0..c312e50 100644
--- a/river/the-night-we-met.river
+++ b/river/the-night-we-met.river

@@ -1,3 +1,5 @@
+title
 the
 night
 we
@@ -8,11 +10,25 @@ out
 of
 my
 mind
+id
+the-night-we-met
+subtitle
 or
 lying
 in
 the
 dark
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 my
 head
 is
@@ -179,3 +195,41 @@ fire
 my
 tongue
 swollen
+my
+tongue
+swollen
+plant
+html
+a
+picture
+of
+our
+future
+last-passenger
+html
+in
+the
+dark
+apollo11
+html
+future
+together
+100-lines
+html
+down
+on
+your
+couch
+early
+html
+and
+memory
+was
+riptide
+memory
+html
+full
+of
+fire
+found-typewriter-poem
+html
diff --git a/river/the-sea_the-beach.river b/river/the-sea_the-beach.river
index 3fae547..a1a05c4 100644
--- a/river/the-sea_the-beach.river
+++ b/river/the-sea_the-beach.river

@@ -1,8 +1,24 @@
+title
 the
 sea
 and
 the
 beach
+id
+the-sea
+the-beach
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 waiting
 for
 a
@@ -139,3 +155,26 @@ there
 and
 takes
 it
+for
+the
+tide
+cold-wind
+html
+that
+make
+the
+beach
+the
+beach
+real-writer
+html
+caress
+plant
+html
+soft
+arms
+something-simple
+html
+yawn
+serengeti
+html
diff --git a/river/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.river b/river/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.river
index d3a7109..a04e458 100644
--- a/river/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.river
+++ b/river/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.river

@@ -1,8 +1,36 @@
+title
 the
 ocean
 overflows
 with
 camels
+id
+theoceanoverflowswithcamels
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+7
+prev
+title
+ars
+poetica
+link
+arspoetica
+next
+title
+the
+boar
+link
+boar
 we
 found
 your
@@ -159,3 +187,13 @@ the
 line
 to
 dry
+shirt
+lovesong
+html
+left
+hook
+roughgloves
+html
+father
+angeltoabraham
+html
diff --git a/river/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.river b/river/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.river
index bcf5eab..228af54 100644
--- a/river/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.river
+++ b/river/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.river

@@ -1,9 +1,24 @@
+title
 time
 looks
 up
 to
 the
 sky
+id
+time-looks-up-to-the-sky
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 wish
 i'd
@@ -165,3 +180,15 @@ and
 you
 pronounced
 goodbye
+something
+in
+my
+pants
+howithappened
+html
+beggar
+to
+a
+prince
+about-the-author
+html
diff --git a/river/todaniel.river b/river/todaniel.river
index 4284d54..20360ce 100644
--- a/river/todaniel.river
+++ b/river/todaniel.river

@@ -1,11 +1,43 @@
+title
 to
 daniel
+id
+todaniel
+subtitle
 an
 elaboration
 of
 a
 previous
 comment
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+27
+prev
+title
+we
+played
+those
+games
+too
+link
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+next
+title
+death's
+trumpet
+link
+deathstrumpet
 there
 are
 more
@@ -50,6 +82,7 @@ perfected
 woman
 isn't
 so
+trumpet
 it's
 just
 that
@@ -103,3 +136,6 @@ comely
 she
 lacks
 talent
+trumpet
+deathstrumpet
+html
diff --git a/river/toilet.river b/river/toilet.river
index 1b8f681..fcb8a0b 100644
--- a/river/toilet.river
+++ b/river/toilet.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 toilet
+id
+toilet
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+11
+next
+title
+leg
+link
+leg
+title
+toothpaste
+link
+toothpaste
+prev
+title
+hands
+link
+hands
+title
+tapestry
+link
+tapestry
 paul
 only
 did
@@ -141,3 +179,6 @@ were
 there
 other
 walls
+notecard
+treatise
+html
diff --git a/river/toothpaste.river b/river/toothpaste.river
index fd1d176..3e0b22b 100644
--- a/river/toothpaste.river
+++ b/river/toothpaste.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 toothpaste
+id
+toothpaste
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+36
+next
+title
+father
+link
+father
+title
+treatise
+link
+treatise
+prev
+title
+early
+link
+early
+title
+toilet
+link
+toilet
 he
 couldn't
 find
@@ -246,3 +284,24 @@ you
 do
 she
 said
+find
+a
+shirt
+no-nothing
+html
+that
+peach
+http
+www
+bartleby
+com
+198
+1
+html
+observation
+problems
+html
+went
+red
+statements-frag
+html
diff --git a/river/treatise.river b/river/treatise.river
index ba18696..5da3fbe 100644
--- a/river/treatise.river
+++ b/river/treatise.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 treatise
+id
+treatise
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+15
+next
+title
+phone
+link
+phone
+title
+underwear
+link
+underwear
+prev
+title
+hardware
+link
+hardware
+title
+toothpaste
+link
+toothpaste
 treatise
 on
 literature
@@ -202,3 +240,14 @@ a
 hologram
 what
 then
+like
+a
+ghost
+howtoread
+html
+where
+is
+the
+hologram
+toilet
+html
diff --git a/river/underwear.river b/river/underwear.river
index 733c41d..9738820 100644
--- a/river/underwear.river
+++ b/river/underwear.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 underwear
+id
+underwear
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+3
+next
+title
+dream
+link
+dream
+title
+wallpaper
+link
+wallpaper
+prev
+title
+hymnal
+link
+hymnal
+title
+treatise
+link
+treatise
 he
 dropped
 the
@@ -200,3 +238,24 @@ did
 you
 put
 them
+question
+exasperated
+html
+dominoes
+phone
+html
+crusty
+mayonnaise
+riptide
+memory
+html
+looked
+at
+her
+angeltoabraham
+html
+look
+at
+me
+found-typewriter-poem
+html
diff --git a/river/walking-in-the-rain.river b/river/walking-in-the-rain.river
index a49acac..820321f 100644
--- a/river/walking-in-the-rain.river
+++ b/river/walking-in-the-rain.river

@@ -1,7 +1,22 @@
+title
 walking
 in
 the
 rain
+id
+walking-in-the-rain
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 i
 can
 walk
@@ -102,3 +117,40 @@ from
 my
 frozen
 lips
+that
+rare
+occurrence
+collage-instrument
+html
+is
+it
+cold
+i
+hear
+you
+seasonal-affective-disorder
+html
+particularly
+cold
+cold-wind
+html
+i
+would
+be
+lying
+as
+well
+todaniel
+html
+no
+truth
+no-nothing
+html
+my
+frozen
+lips
+swansong-alt
+html
+penetrated
+lovesong
+html
diff --git a/river/wallpaper.river b/river/wallpaper.river
index b4b7afb..49b23bc 100644
--- a/river/wallpaper.river
+++ b/river/wallpaper.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 wallpaper
+id
+wallpaper
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+31
+next
+title
+punch
+link
+punch
+title
+window
+link
+window
+prev
+title
+x-ray
+link
+x-ray
+title
+underwear
+link
+underwear
 he
 didn't
 go
@@ -207,6 +245,8 @@ to
 read
 about
 you
+do
+you
 she
 asked
 and
@@ -215,3 +255,29 @@ out
 of
 the
 room
+tv
+in
+the
+next
+room
+statements-frag
+html
+the
+wall
+without
+the
+window
+on
+it
+with
+the
+woodgrain
+wallpaper
+in-bed
+html
+do
+you
+http
+www
+confederacyofdunces
+com
diff --git a/river/weplayedthosegamestoo.river b/river/weplayedthosegamestoo.river
index 1501c0d..805f96b 100644
--- a/river/weplayedthosegamestoo.river
+++ b/river/weplayedthosegamestoo.river

@@ -1,8 +1,37 @@
+title
 we
 played
 those
 games
 too
+id
+weplayedthosegamestoo
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+25
+prev
+title
+telemarketer
+link
+telemarketer
+next
+title
+to
+daniel
+an
+elaboration
+link
+todaniel
 i
 saw
 two
@@ -73,7 +102,8 @@ my
 hands
 over
 my
-daughter's
+daughter
+s
 voicebox
 as
 she
@@ -142,6 +172,7 @@ pushed
 our
 throats
 together
+spittle
 i
 will
 never
@@ -165,3 +196,10 @@ always
 to
 remember
 you
+my
+daughter
+and
+html
+spittle
+spittle
+html
diff --git a/river/what-we-are-made-of.river b/river/what-we-are-made-of.river
index 9d4ee56..b5d7b72 100644
--- a/river/what-we-are-made-of.river
+++ b/river/what-we-are-made-of.river

@@ -1,8 +1,23 @@
+title
 what
 we
 are
 made
 of
+id
+what-we-are-made-of
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 there
 is
 a
@@ -728,3 +743,31 @@ the
 future
 i'm
 waiting
+i
+am
+able
+to
+hear
+the
+silence
+music-433
+html
+realizing
+i
+won't
+be
+home
+lappel-du-vide
+html
+the
+wind
+picks
+me
+up
+and
+carries
+me
+away
+riptide
+memory
+html
diff --git a/river/when-im-sorry-i.river b/river/when-im-sorry-i.river
index b2f6591..db34424 100644
--- a/river/when-im-sorry-i.river
+++ b/river/when-im-sorry-i.river

@@ -1,9 +1,24 @@
+title
 when
 i'm
 sorry
 i
 wash
 dishes
+id
+when-im-sorry-i
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 your
 casserole
 dish
@@ -114,6 +129,7 @@ always
 in
 some
 attic
+attic
 a
 thought
 roaming
@@ -135,3 +151,20 @@ and
 more
 than
 that
+this
+is
+the
+reason
+http
+plagiarist
+com
+poetry
+1703
+forgotten
+the
+rest
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
+attic
+real-writer
+html
diff --git a/river/window.river b/river/window.river
index b0ec596..ca4be88 100644
--- a/river/window.river
+++ b/river/window.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 window
+id
+window
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+18
+next
+title
+question
+link
+question
+title
+writing
+link
+writing
+prev
+title
+tapestry
+link
+tapestry
+title
+wallpaper
+link
+wallpaper
 hymn
 386
 jokes
@@ -241,3 +279,32 @@ with
 him
 this
 time
+tell
+us
+a
+joke
+joke
+html
+hymn
+386
+jokes
+hymnal
+html
+his
+bright
+red
+hair
+ronaldmcdonald
+html
+the
+moon
+is
+full
+moon-drowning
+html
+what
+could
+he
+say
+elegyforanalternateself
+html
diff --git a/river/words-irritable-reaching.river b/river/words-irritable-reaching.river
index b72119d..b23e5af 100644
--- a/river/words-irritable-reaching.river
+++ b/river/words-irritable-reaching.river

@@ -1,8 +1,23 @@
+title
 words
 and
 their
 irritable
 reaching
+id
+words-irritable-reaching
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+autocento
+of
+the
+breakfast
+table
+class
+autocento
 somewhere
 i
 remember
@@ -71,7 +86,6 @@ that
 each
 particular
 erases
-/
 the
 luminous
 clarity
@@ -224,7 +238,6 @@ thinking
 is
 about
 loss
-/
 in
 this
 it
@@ -270,7 +283,6 @@ of
 grief
 a
 tone
-/
 almost
 querulous
 about
@@ -311,7 +323,6 @@ to
 his
 childhood
 river
-/
 with
 its
 island
@@ -516,7 +527,6 @@ language
 can
 almost
 mean
-/
 but
 frightening
 that
@@ -532,7 +542,6 @@ irritable
 reaching
 after
 fact
-&
 reason
 that
 language
@@ -582,7 +591,6 @@ we
 write
 the
 words
-/
 get
 it
 wrong
@@ -760,7 +768,6 @@ we
 feel
 most
 has
-/
 no
 name
 but
@@ -825,3 +832,53 @@ honesty
 about
 that
 fact
+meditation
+at
+legunitas
+http
+www
+poetryfoundation
+org
+poem
+177014
+a
+word
+is
+elegy
+words-meaning
+html
+a
+famous
+essay
+http
+ualr
+edu
+rmburns
+rb
+hugosubj
+html
+the
+forgotten
+dialect
+of
+the
+heart
+http
+www
+smith
+edu
+poetrycenter
+poets
+theforgottendialect
+html
+irritable
+reaching
+http
+www
+mrbauld
+com
+negcap
+html
+art
+art
+html
diff --git a/river/words-meaning.river b/river/words-meaning.river
index 02f572b..470ece9 100644
--- a/river/words-meaning.river
+++ b/river/words-meaning.river

@@ -1,6 +1,41 @@
+title
 words
 and
 meaning
+id
+words-meaning
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+elegies
+for
+alternate
+selves
+class
+elegies
+order
+4
+prev
+title
+and
+link
+and
+next
+title
+on
+seeing
+the
+panorama
+of
+the
+apollo
+11
+landing
+site
+link
+apollo11
 how
 astonishing
 it
@@ -10,7 +45,6 @@ language
 can
 almost
 mean
-/
 and
 frightening
 that
@@ -470,3 +504,15 @@ the
 kernel
 it
 is
+disingenuous
+likingthings
+html
+inverse
+of
+everything
+i-am
+html
+it
+is
+arspoetica
+html
diff --git a/river/worse-looking-over.river b/river/worse-looking-over.river
index bd1bede..e298efe 100644
--- a/river/worse-looking-over.river
+++ b/river/worse-looking-over.river

@@ -1,6 +1,52 @@
+title
 worse
 looking
 over
+id
+worse-looking-over
+genre
+verse
+project
+title
+stark
+raving
+class
+stark
+order
+4
+next
+title
+the
+sixteenth
+chapel
+link
+sixteenth-chapel
+title
+something
+about
+the
+nature
+of
+poetry
+and
+time
+link
+poetry-time
+prev
+title
+love
+as
+god
+link
+love-as-god
+title
+the
+moon
+is
+drowning
+link
+moon-drowning
 the
 radio
 is
@@ -146,3 +192,24 @@ and
 quietly
 looking
 away
+the
+radio
+is
+screaming
+the
+man
+moon-drowning
+html
+in
+bed
+in-bed
+html
+it's
+something
+never
+over
+nothing-is-ever-over
+html
+shoulder
+last-passenger
+html
diff --git a/river/writing.river b/river/writing.river
index f645a88..3ceccc7 100644
--- a/river/writing.river
+++ b/river/writing.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 writing
+id
+writing
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+7
+next
+title
+notes
+link
+notes
+title
+x-ray
+link
+x-ray
+prev
+title
+leaf
+link
+leaf
+title
+window
+link
+window
 he
 sat
 down
@@ -66,6 +104,7 @@ he
 could
 never
 remember
+ms
 samovar
 he
 smiled
@@ -167,3 +206,20 @@ to
 buy
 a
 typewriter
+ms
+telemarketer
+html
+the
+view
+from
+saturday
+http
+www
+elkonigsburg
+com
+swore
+swear
+html
+heart
+swansong-alt
+html
diff --git a/river/x-ray.river b/river/x-ray.river
index 96a2491..416ed1b 100644
--- a/river/x-ray.river
+++ b/river/x-ray.river

@@ -1,4 +1,42 @@
+title
 x-ray
+id
+x-ray
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+30
+next
+title
+wallpaper
+link
+wallpaper
+title
+yellow
+link
+yellow
+prev
+title
+yellow
+link
+yellow
+title
+writing
+link
+writing
 while
 chopping
 a
@@ -248,3 +286,18 @@ hit
 his
 writing
 hand
+the
+radio
+stayed
+off
+the
+entire
+way
+worse-looking-over
+html
+have
+lost
+your
+hand
+roughgloves
+html
diff --git a/river/yellow.river b/river/yellow.river
index 3357796..8be83db 100644
--- a/river/yellow.river
+++ b/river/yellow.river

@@ -1,4 +1,38 @@
+title
 yellow
+id
+yellow
+genre
+prose
+project
+title
+buildings
+out
+of
+air
+paul
+in
+the
+woods
+class
+paul
+order
+29
+next
+title
+x-ray
+link
+x-ray
+prev
+title
+building
+link
+building
+title
+x-ray
+link
+x-ray
 he
 would
 enter
@@ -270,3 +304,6 @@ day
 that
 it
 does
+refrigerator
+feedingtheraven
+html
diff --git a/ronaldmcdonald.html b/ronaldmcdonald.html
index ba2b81d..949defc 100644
--- a/ronaldmcdonald.html
+++ b/ronaldmcdonald.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Ronald McDonald | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="ronaldmcdonald" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Ronald McDonald</h1>
@@ -40,14 +36,16 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>When Ronald McDonald takes off his <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">striped shirt</a>,<br />his coveralls, his painted face: when he no longer looks<br />like anyone or anything special, sitting next to women</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>in bars or standing in the aisle at the grocery,<br />is he no longer Ronald? Is he no longer happy to kick<br />a soccer ball around with the kids in the park,</p>
+            <p>When Ronald McDonald takes off his <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">striped shirt</a>,<br />his coveralls, his painted face: when he no longer looks<br />like anyone or anything special, sitting next to women</p>
-<p>is he suddenly unable to enjoy the french fries<br />he gets for his fifty percent off? I’d like to think<br />that he takes Ronald off like a shirt, hangs him</p>
+            <p>in bars or standing in the aisle at the grocery,<br />is he no longer Ronald? Is he no longer happy to kick<br />a soccer ball around with the kids in the park,</p>
-<p>in a closet where he breathes darkly in the musk.<br />I’d like to believe that we are able to slough off selves<br />like old skin and still retain some base self.</p>
+            <p>is he suddenly unable to enjoy the french fries<br />he gets for his fifty percent off? I’d like to think<br />that he takes Ronald off like a shirt, hangs him</p>
-<p>Of course we all know this is not what happens.<br />The Ronald leering at women drunkenly is the same who<br />the next day kicks at a ball the size of a head.</p>
+            <p>in a closet where he breathes darkly in the musk.<br />I’d like to believe that we are able to slough off selves<br />like old skin and still retain some base self.</p>
-<p>He is the same that hugs his children at night,<br />who has sex with his wife on the weekends when they’re<br />not so tired to make it work, who smiles holding</p>
+            <p>Of course we all know this is not what happens.<br />The Ronald leering at women drunkenly is the same who<br />the next day kicks at a ball the size of a head.</p>
-<p>a basket of fries in front of a field. He cannot<br />take off the facepaint or the <a href="roughgloves.html">yellow gloves</a>. They are<br />stuck to him like so many feathers with the tar</p>
+            <p>He is the same that hugs his children at night,<br />who has sex with his wife on the weekends when they’re<br />not so tired to make it work, who smiles holding</p>
-<p>of his everyday associations. His plight is that<br />of everyone’s—we are what we do who we are.</p></section>
+            <p>a basket of fries in front of a field. He cannot<br />take off the facepaint or the <a href="roughgloves.html">yellow gloves</a>. They are<br />stuck to him like so many feathers with the tar</p>
+            <p>of his everyday associations. His plight is that<br />of everyone’s—we are what we do who we are.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="roughgloves.html"
diff --git a/roughgloves.html b/roughgloves.html
index 5b9dd7a..04ed2cc 100644
--- a/roughgloves.html
+++ b/roughgloves.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Rough gloves | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="roughgloves" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Rough gloves</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I lost my hands &amp; knit replacement ones<br />from <a href="poetry-time.html">spiders’ threads</a>, stronger than steel but soft<br />as lambs’ wool. Catching as they do on nails<br />&amp; your collarbone, you don’t seem to like<br />their rough warm presence on your <a href="feedingtheraven.html">cheek or thigh</a>.<br />I’ve asked you if you minded, you’ve said no<br />(your face a table laid with burnt meat, bread<br />so stale it could <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">break a hand</a>). Remember<br />your senile mother’s face above that table?<br />I’d say she got the meaning of that look.<br />You’d rather not be touched by these rough gloves,<br />the only way I have to knit a love<br />against whatever winters we may enter<br />like a silkworm in a spider’s blackened <a href="serengeti.html">maw</a>.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>I lost my hands &amp; knit replacement ones<br />from <a href="poetry-time.html">spiders’ threads</a>, stronger than steel but soft<br />as lambs’ wool. Catching as they do on nails<br />&amp; your collarbone, you don’t seem to like<br />their rough warm presence on your <a href="feedingtheraven.html">cheek or thigh</a>.<br />I’ve asked you if you minded, you’ve said no<br />(your face a table laid with burnt meat, bread<br />so stale it could <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">break a hand</a>). Remember<br />your senile mother’s face above that table?<br />I’d say she got the meaning of that look.<br />You’d rather not be touched by these rough gloves,<br />the only way I have to knit a love<br />against whatever winters we may enter<br />like a silkworm in a spider’s blackened <a href="serengeti.html">maw</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="lovesong.html"
diff --git a/sapling.html b/sapling.html
index 246464b..04e4ba4 100644
--- a/sapling.html
+++ b/sapling.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Sapling | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="sapling" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Sapling</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He chopped down a sapling pine tree and looked at his watch. From first chop to fall it had taken him eight minutes and something like twenty seconds. Maybe a little change. He leaned against another tree and fished in his pocket for a cigarette. He lifted it out of its box and fished in his other pocket for his lighter, failing to find it. He searched his other pockets. He came to the realization that he had forgotten it in his Shack (in confusion over his True Vocation, he’d resorted to calling it simply the Shack until he could figure it out). He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“I wonder if trees are protective of their young” he said to himself, then wondered if why he had to think his thoughts out loud, then remembered he always did this, then remembered his conversation with Jill. He hoped she didn’t. He hoped that conversation was like <a href="options.html">the tree that fell in the forest</a> with no one around. “I wonder if a thought said out loud isn’t heard by anyone, if it was made. I think maybe this is what Literature (big L) is all about, if it’s trying to make a connection because no idea matters unless it’s connected to something else, or to someone else. Maybe no wood matters unless it’s <a href="last-passenger.html">bound to another</a> by upholstery nails. If ‘the devil is in the details,’ as they say (who are ‘they’ anyway?), the details are the connections? That doesn’t make sense. Details are details. Connections are connections.</p>
+            <p>He chopped down a sapling pine tree and looked at his watch. From first chop to fall it had taken him eight minutes and something like twenty seconds. Maybe a little change. He leaned against another tree and fished in his pocket for a cigarette. He lifted it out of its box and fished in his other pocket for his lighter, failing to find it. He searched his other pockets. He came to the realization that he had forgotten it in his Shack (in confusion over his True Vocation, he’d resorted to calling it simply the Shack until he could figure it out). He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.</p>
-<p>“Still, a neuron by itself means nothing. Put them all together though and connect them. You’ve got a brain.”</p></section>
+            <p>“I wonder if trees are protective of their young” he said to himself, then wondered if why he had to think his thoughts out loud, then remembered he always did this, then remembered his conversation with Jill. He hoped she didn’t. He hoped that conversation was like <a href="options.html">the tree that fell in the forest</a> with no one around. “I wonder if a thought said out loud isn’t heard by anyone, if it was made. I think maybe this is what Literature (big L) is all about, if it’s trying to make a connection because no idea matters unless it’s connected to something else, or to someone else. Maybe no wood matters unless it’s <a href="last-passenger.html">bound to another</a> by upholstery nails. If ‘the devil is in the details,’ as they say (who are ‘they’ anyway?), the details are the connections? That doesn’t make sense. Details are details. Connections are connections.</p>
+            <p>“Still, a neuron by itself means nothing. Put them all together though and connect them. You’ve got a brain.”</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="question.html"
diff --git a/seasonal-affective-disorder.html b/seasonal-affective-disorder.html
index c038ac6..37055fe 100644
--- a/seasonal-affective-disorder.html
+++ b/seasonal-affective-disorder.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Seasonal affective disorder | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="seasonal-affective-disorder" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Seasonal affective disorder</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>On your desk I set a tangerine:<br />a relic of a <a href="january.html">winter</a> quickly passing.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I’m reminded, fiercely, of a summer:<br />I watched the <a href="death-zone.html">cemetery grass</a> on my stomach.</p>
+            <p>On your desk I set a tangerine:<br />a relic of a <a href="january.html">winter</a> quickly passing.</p>
-<p>You hate the wind <a href="building.html">blowing through buildings</a>:<br />the coldness of fire, blister of a mountain stream.</p>
+            <p>I’m reminded, fiercely, of a summer:<br />I watched the <a href="death-zone.html">cemetery grass</a> on my stomach.</p>
-<p>When you broke down that night: your aunt / you<br />never have been / <a href="the-night-we-met.html">you shook that night</a> /</p>
+            <p>You hate the wind <a href="building.html">blowing through buildings</a>:<br />the coldness of fire, blister of a mountain stream.</p>
-<p>Seasonal affective disorder is real: you<br /><a href="last-bastion.html">mutter under your breath on the highway</a>.</p>
+            <p>When you broke down that night: your aunt / you<br />never have been / <a href="the-night-we-met.html">you shook that night</a> /</p>
-<p>The ant carries an orange peel past a headstone:<br />it carries her nearly as often.</p>
+            <p>Seasonal affective disorder is real: you<br /><a href="last-bastion.html">mutter under your breath on the highway</a>.</p>
-<p>I set a tangerine on your desk:<br />an engagement ring, winter-returned.</p></section>
+            <p>The ant carries an orange peel past a headstone:<br />it carries her nearly as often.</p>
+            <p>I set a tangerine on your desk:<br />an engagement ring, winter-returned.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/sense-of-it.html b/sense-of-it.html
index 88157f1..f013fd4 100644
--- a/sense-of-it.html
+++ b/sense-of-it.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Sense of it | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="sense-of-it" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Sense of it</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I only write poems on <a href="stagnant.html">the bus</a> anymore.<br />I sit far in the back to be alone.<br />I mark black things on white things in a black thing.<br />I try to make sense of it.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>Every time I see a plastic bag in the wind I think:<br /><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qssvnjj5Moo">This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.</a><br />Most of my life I relate to something on the TV:<br />This is how I try to make sense of it.</p>
+            <p>I only write poems on <a href="stagnant.html">the bus</a> anymore.<br />I sit far in the back to be alone.<br />I mark black things on white things in a black thing.<br />I try to make sense of it.</p>
-<p>The Talking Heads song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r7X3f2gFz4">“Stop Making Sense”</a><br />is about a girlfriend caught cheating and willed oblivion.<br />The song’s real title is “Girlfriend is Better”<br />but <a href="the-night-we-met.html">lying</a> about it is a way I try to make sense of it.</p>
+            <p>Every time I see a plastic bag in the wind I think:<br /><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qssvnjj5Moo">This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.</a><br />Most of my life I relate to something on the TV:<br />This is how I try to make sense of it.</p>
-<p>The day after I lost her I found you again.<br />Your face made a plastic bag of my heart.<br />Your eyes were <a href="cold-wind.html">the wind</a> pushing the bus forward.<br />I couldn’t make sense of it.</p></section>
+            <p>The Talking Heads song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r7X3f2gFz4">“Stop Making Sense”</a><br />is about a girlfriend caught cheating and willed oblivion.<br />The song’s real title is “Girlfriend is Better”<br />but <a href="the-night-we-met.html">lying</a> about it is a way I try to make sense of it.</p>
+            <p>The day after I lost her I found you again.<br />Your face made a plastic bag of my heart.<br />Your eyes were <a href="cold-wind.html">the wind</a> pushing the bus forward.<br />I couldn’t make sense of it.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/serengeti.html b/serengeti.html
index eec385c..e9823d2 100644
--- a/serengeti.html
+++ b/serengeti.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Serengeti | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="serengeti" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Serengeti</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>The self is a serengeti<br />a wide grassland with baobab trees<br />reaching their roots deep into earth<br />like a child into a clay pot<br />A wind blows there or seems to blow<br />if he holds it up to his ear the air shifts<br />like stones in a stream uncovering a crawfish<br />it finds another hiding place watching you<br />Its eyes are blacker than wind<br />on the serengeti they are the <a href="onformalpoetry.html">eyes of a predator</a><br />they are coming toward you or receding<br />a storm cloud builds on the horizon<br />Are you <a href="squirrel.html">running</a> toward the rain or away from it<br />Do you stand still and crouch hoping for silence</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>The self is a serengeti<br />a wide grassland with baobab trees<br />reaching their roots deep into earth<br />like a child into a clay pot<br />A wind blows there or seems to blow<br />if he holds it up to his ear the air shifts<br />like stones in a stream uncovering a crawfish<br />it finds another hiding place watching you<br />Its eyes are blacker than wind<br />on the serengeti they are the <a href="onformalpoetry.html">eyes of a predator</a><br />they are coming toward you or receding<br />a storm cloud builds on the horizon<br />Are you <a href="squirrel.html">running</a> toward the rain or away from it<br />Do you stand still and crouch hoping for silence</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="mountain.html"
diff --git a/shed.html b/shed.html
index a3a90dd..2e5de55 100644
--- a/shed.html
+++ b/shed.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Shed | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="shed" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Shed</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“What do you do all day in that shed out back” his mother asked one night while they ate dinner in front of the TV. “Write” he answered. “Write what” she asked in that way that means he’d better not say I don’t know. “I don’t know” he said.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Goddammit Paul” his mother said. “You’re <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177229">wasting your life</a> out in that shed. You need to go out and get—” “I chop down trees too” he said. “I make furniture out of them.” His mother’s face did a Hitchcock zoom as she considered this new information. “Is it any good” she asked, eyes narrowed.</p>
+            <p>“What do you do all day in that shed out back” his mother asked one night while they ate dinner in front of the TV. “Write” he answered. “Write what” she asked in that way that means he’d better not say I don’t know. “I don’t know” he said.</p>
-<p>“It’s getting there” he answered. “I’m getting better every day.” “When is it going to be there” she asked. “When are you going to sell <a href="real-writer.html">this furniture</a> of yours?” “It’ll be a while” he answered.</p>
+            <p>“Goddammit Paul” his mother said. “You’re <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177229">wasting your life</a> out in that shed. You need to go out and get—” “I chop down trees too” he said. “I make furniture out of them.” His mother’s face did a Hitchcock zoom as she considered this new information. “Is it any good” she asked, eyes narrowed.</p>
-<p>“Then you’d better get a job until then” she said.</p></section>
+            <p>“It’s getting there” he answered. “I’m getting better every day.” “When is it going to be there” she asked. “When are you going to sell <a href="real-writer.html">this furniture</a> of yours?” “It’ll be a while” he answered.</p>
+            <p>“Then you’d better get a job until then” she said.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="notes.html"
diff --git a/shipwright.html b/shipwright.html
index 6ded9c5..4e0e078 100644
--- a/shipwright.html
+++ b/shipwright.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The shipwright | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="shipwright" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The shipwright</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>He builds a ship as if it were the last thing<br />holding him together, as if, when he stops,<br />his body will fall onto the plate-glass water<br />and shatter into sand. To keep his morale up<br />he whistles and sings, but the wind whistles <a href="apollo11.html">louder</a><br />and taunts him: Your ship will build itself<br />if you throw yourself into the sea; time<br />has a way of growing your beard for you.<br />Soon, you’ll find yourself on a rocking chair<br />on some porch made from your ship’s timbers.<br />The window behind you is made from a sail, thick<br />canvas, and no one inside will hear your calling<br />for milk or a chamberpot. Your children<br />will have all sailed to the New World and left you.<br />But he tries not to listen, continues to hammer<br />nail after nail into timber after timber,<br />but the wind <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">finally blows</a> him into the growling ocean<br />and the ship falls apart on its own.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>He builds a ship as if it were the last thing<br />holding him together, as if, when he stops,<br />his body will fall onto the plate-glass water<br />and shatter into sand. To keep his morale up<br />he whistles and sings, but the wind whistles <a href="apollo11.html">louder</a><br />and taunts him: Your ship will build itself<br />if you throw yourself into the sea; time<br />has a way of growing your beard for you.<br />Soon, you’ll find yourself on a rocking chair<br />on some porch made from your ship’s timbers.<br />The window behind you is made from a sail, thick<br />canvas, and no one inside will hear your calling<br />for milk or a chamberpot. Your children<br />will have all sailed to the New World and left you.<br />But he tries not to listen, continues to hammer<br />nail after nail into timber after timber,<br />but the wind <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">finally blows</a> him into the growling ocean<br />and the ship falls apart on its own.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="serengeti.html"
diff --git a/sixteenth-chapel.html b/sixteenth-chapel.html
index e27ba50..5baf7a5 100644
--- a/sixteenth-chapel.html
+++ b/sixteenth-chapel.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The Sixteenth Chapel | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="sixteenth-chapel" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The Sixteenth Chapel</h1>
@@ -48,13 +44,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>If Justin Bieber isn’t going for the sixteenth<br />chapel, I’m not either. I admit he is my role<br />model. He’s so current, so fresh and so new,<br />and Michelangelo is so old, his art so dated.<br />Where is the love in those old paintings? All<br />I see is <a href="creation-myth.html">creation</a>, <a href="movingsideways.html">judgment</a>, and <a href="deathstrumpet.html">death</a>—</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>and I don’t get the preoccupation with death.<br />I’m about life! Ever since my sixteenth<br />birthday, when me and my two sisters all<br />nearly died when the car I was driving rolled<br />into a creek. Even though I’ve <a href="riptide_memory.html">forgotten the date</a>,<br />I think it keeps me thinking on the new,</p>
+            <p>If Justin Bieber isn’t going for the sixteenth<br />chapel, I’m not either. I admit he is my role<br />model. He’s so current, so fresh and so new,<br />and Michelangelo is so old, his art so dated.<br />Where is the love in those old paintings? All<br />I see is <a href="creation-myth.html">creation</a>, <a href="movingsideways.html">judgment</a>, and <a href="deathstrumpet.html">death</a>—</p>
-<p>something Biebs would be proud of if he knew.<br />I look at him, and see the <a href="death-zone.html">opposite of death</a><br />in his eyes, his youthful smile: though someday<br />he may <a href="i-am.html">be a father</a>, and later host a Sweet Sixteen<br />for his daughter (who I know he’ll buy a Rolls),<br />death will never find him. Living will be all</p>
+            <p>and I don’t get the preoccupation with death.<br />I’m about life! Ever since my sixteenth<br />birthday, when me and my two sisters all<br />nearly died when the car I was driving rolled<br />into a creek. Even though I’ve <a href="riptide_memory.html">forgotten the date</a>,<br />I think it keeps me thinking on the new,</p>
-<p>he’ll ever do, because it will be all<br />he’ll ever need to do. He is the eternal new,<br />the <a href="about-the-author.html">forever youth:</a> this is the simple <a href="words-meaning.html">role</a><br />of every celebrity, to let us forget death.<br />Bieber didn’t make a mistake on the Sistine<br />Chapel’s name. He merely showed that someday</p>
+            <p>something Biebs would be proud of if he knew.<br />I look at him, and see the <a href="death-zone.html">opposite of death</a><br />in his eyes, his youthful smile: though someday<br />he may <a href="i-am.html">be a father</a>, and later host a Sweet Sixteen<br />for his daughter (who I know he’ll buy a Rolls),<br />death will never find him. Living will be all</p>
-<p>all old names must go, that on some day<br />a name must die so that the thing, which is all<br />that matters, can stay as it was in the sixteenth<br />century: fresh, ostentatious, and brand new.<br />In a way, <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">the name becomes a Christ</a>, experiencing death<br />so the world doesn’t have to. But I am wary of this role</p>
+            <p>he’ll ever do, because it will be all<br />he’ll ever need to do. He is the eternal new,<br />the <a href="about-the-author.html">forever youth:</a> this is the simple <a href="words-meaning.html">role</a><br />of every celebrity, to let us forget death.<br />Bieber didn’t make a mistake on the Sistine<br />Chapel’s name. He merely showed that someday</p>
-<p>for a name. It seems a name gives meaning, rolls<br />the general idea together with the concrete, daily<br />toil of the mundane. Are not life and death<br />intertwined? Is not everything tied up all<br />with everything? I guess I’m saying the new<br />necessarily comes from the old, as every sixteen-</p>
+            <p>all old names must go, that on some day<br />a name must die so that the thing, which is all<br />that matters, can stay as it was in the sixteenth<br />century: fresh, ostentatious, and brand new.<br />In a way, <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">the name becomes a Christ</a>, experiencing death<br />so the world doesn’t have to. But I am wary of this role</p>
-<p>year-old has a parent. <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">Life rolls to death</a>, and all<br />is tied together. Each day is born of night, and dies so new<br />morning can occur. Even the sixteenth chapel holds death.</p></section>
+            <p>for a name. It seems a name gives meaning, rolls<br />the general idea together with the concrete, daily<br />toil of the mundane. Are not life and death<br />intertwined? Is not everything tied up all<br />with everything? I guess I’m saying the new<br />necessarily comes from the old, as every sixteen-</p>
+            <p>year-old has a parent. <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">Life rolls to death</a>, and all<br />is tied together. Each day is born of night, and dies so new<br />morning can occur. Even the sixteenth chapel holds death.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="worse-looking-over.html"
diff --git a/snow.html b/snow.html
index 9f6d123..dd647fc 100644
--- a/snow.html
+++ b/snow.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Snow | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="snow" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Snow</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em><a href="fire.html">I don’t care if they burn</a></em> he wrote on his last blank notecard. He’d have to go to the Office Supply Store tomorrow after work.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>He looked at what he’d written. He’d been thinking about this for a while, felt the frustration build slowly like a <a href="serengeti.html">thundercloud</a> in the back of his mind. He thought he should write something else on the card, but everything he thought of seemed too confessional or too real compromising. <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">He didn’t want anyone, not even the notecards, to know what he was thinking.</a> He decided to try for more of an interview with the paper.</p>
+            <p><em><a href="fire.html">I don’t care if they burn</a></em> he wrote on his last blank notecard. He’d have to go to the Office Supply Store tomorrow after work.</p>
-<p><em>Why?</em> asked the notecard. <em>Because there is nothing important on any of them</em> he wrote back. <em>What do you mean? You have some good stuff in that top drawer there.</em> He looked in the top drawer. It was stuffed full of notecards in no organization. He could see bits and pieces of thoughts like leaves crunched underfoot in autumn. <em>It will take so much organization</em> he wrote.</p>
+            <p>He looked at what he’d written. He’d been thinking about this for a while, felt the frustration build slowly like a <a href="serengeti.html">thundercloud</a> in the back of his mind. He thought he should write something else on the card, but everything he thought of seemed too confessional or too real compromising. <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">He didn’t want anyone, not even the notecards, to know what he was thinking.</a> He decided to try for more of an interview with the paper.</p>
-<p><em>Why is organization important? Remember the trees, <a href="axe.html">how they formed rows</a> without trying. No matter how the ideas fall, they make something. <a href="100-lines.html">The snow</a> <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">does that too</a></em> he wrote. <em>It doesn’t try to make anything but it does.</em></p>
+            <p><em>Why?</em> asked the notecard. <em>Because there is nothing important on any of them</em> he wrote back. <em>What do you mean? You have some good stuff in that top drawer there.</em> He looked in the top drawer. It was stuffed full of notecards in no organization. He could see bits and pieces of thoughts like leaves crunched underfoot in autumn. <em>It will take so much organization</em> he wrote.</p>
-<p><em>No the snow is different</em> the notecard was annoyed. <em>The snow is a blank canvas that humans build into shapes or doppelgangers. It makes nothing on its own.</em></p></section>
+            <p><em>Why is organization important? Remember the trees, <a href="axe.html">how they formed rows</a> without trying. No matter how the ideas fall, they make something. <a href="100-lines.html">The snow</a> <a href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html">does that too</a></em> he wrote. <em>It doesn’t try to make anything but it does.</em></p>
+            <p><em>No the snow is different</em> the notecard was annoyed. <em>The snow is a blank canvas that humans build into shapes or doppelgangers. It makes nothing on its own.</em></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="man.html"
diff --git a/something-simple.html b/something-simple.html
index e45391f..e1a088f 100644
--- a/something-simple.html
+++ b/something-simple.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Let’s start with something simple: | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="something-simple" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Let’s start with something simple:</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>in mammals the ratio between bladder size<br />and urethra is such that it takes<br />all of them the same time to piss. Take<br />for example the fact that Fibonnacci<br />numbers show up everywhere. How can you<br />look at this at all of this all of<br />these facts and tell me to my face there<br />is no God? And yet there isn’t<br />you murmer quietly into my ear over<br />and over like a low tide sounding<br />its lonely waves on an abandoned beach.<br />The ocean that birthed us holds us<br />still. We are tied, you and I, together<br />in her arms. The <a href="moon-drowning.html">moon, caring father,</a><br />looks down from a dispassionate sky.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>in mammals the ratio between bladder size<br />and urethra is such that it takes<br />all of them the same time to piss. Take<br />for example the fact that Fibonnacci<br />numbers show up everywhere. How can you<br />look at this at all of this all of<br />these facts and tell me to my face there<br />is no God? And yet there isn’t<br />you murmer quietly into my ear over<br />and over like a low tide sounding<br />its lonely waves on an abandoned beach.<br />The ocean that birthed us holds us<br />still. We are tied, you and I, together<br />in her arms. The <a href="moon-drowning.html">moon, caring father,</a><br />looks down from a dispassionate sky.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/spittle.html b/spittle.html
index a20409e..c56675c 100644
--- a/spittle.html
+++ b/spittle.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Spittle | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="spittle" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Spittle</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>My body is attached to your body by a thin spittle of thought.<br />When you turn away from me, my thought is broken<br />and forms anew with something else. Ideas are drool.<br />Beauty has been slobbered over far too long. <a href="howithappened.html">God</a><br />is a tidal wave of bodily fluid. Even the flea has some<br />vestigial wetness. We live in a world fleshy and dark,<br />and moist as a nostril. Is conciousness only a watery-eyed<br />romantic, crying softly into his <a href="lovesong.html">shirt-sleeve</a>? Is not reason<br />a square-jawed businessman with a briefcase full of memory?<br />I want to kiss the world to make it mine. I want to become<br />a Judas to reality, betray it with the wetness of emotion.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>My body is attached to your body by a thin spittle of thought.<br />When you turn away from me, my thought is broken<br />and forms anew with something else. Ideas are drool.<br />Beauty has been slobbered over far too long. <a href="howithappened.html">God</a><br />is a tidal wave of bodily fluid. Even the flea has some<br />vestigial wetness. We live in a world fleshy and dark,<br />and moist as a nostril. Is conciousness only a watery-eyed<br />romantic, crying softly into his <a href="lovesong.html">shirt-sleeve</a>? Is not reason<br />a square-jawed businessman with a briefcase full of memory?<br />I want to kiss the world to make it mine. I want to become<br />a Judas to reality, betray it with the wetness of emotion.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="shipwright.html"
diff --git a/squirrel.html b/squirrel.html
index 8ce331f..7da1104 100644
--- a/squirrel.html
+++ b/squirrel.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The squirrel | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="squirrel" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The squirrel</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>He is so full in himself:<br />how far down the branch to run,<br />how long to jump, when to grab the air<br />and catch in it and turn, and land on branch<br />so gracefully it’s like dying, alone<br />and warm in a bed next to a summer window<br />and the <a href="mountain.html">birds singing</a>. And on that branch there<br />is the squirrel dancing among the branches<br />and you think <em>What if he fell?</em> but he won’t<br />because he’s a squirrel and that’s what<br />they do, <a href="movingsideways.html">dance</a> and never fall. It was erased<br />long ago from the squirrel, even<br />the possibility of falling was erased<br />from his being by the slow inexorable evolution<br />of squirrels, that is why all squirrels<br />are so full in themselves, full in who they are.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>He is so full in himself:<br />how far down the branch to run,<br />how long to jump, when to grab the air<br />and catch in it and turn, and land on branch<br />so gracefully it’s like dying, alone<br />and warm in a bed next to a summer window<br />and the <a href="mountain.html">birds singing</a>. And on that branch there<br />is the squirrel dancing among the branches<br />and you think <em>What if he fell?</em> but he won’t<br />because he’s a squirrel and that’s what<br />they do, <a href="movingsideways.html">dance</a> and never fall. It was erased<br />long ago from the squirrel, even<br />the possibility of falling was erased<br />from his being by the slow inexorable evolution<br />of squirrels, that is why all squirrels<br />are so full in themselves, full in who they are.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="spittle.html"
diff --git a/src/100-lines.txt b/src/100-lines.txt
index ea2af5c..8e05b6d 100644
--- a/src/100-lines.txt
+++ b/src/100-lines.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: 100 lines
+id: 100-lines
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Whenever you call me friend \
diff --git a/src/README.txt b/src/README.txt
index ba7cd6a..8f4fd59 100644
--- a/src/README.txt
+++ b/src/README.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Autocento of the breakfast table
+id: README
 subtitle: about this site
 genre: prose
@@ -8,7 +9,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Introduction
diff --git a/src/about-the-author.txt b/src/about-the-author.txt
index 7c6083d..fb024e2 100644
--- a/src/about-the-author.txt
+++ b/src/about-the-author.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: About the author
+id: about-the-author
 subtitle: (not pictured)
 genre: prose
@@ -8,7 +9,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 19
    prev:
    - title: Something about all music being performances of _4&prime;33&Prime;_ in places where other bands happen to be playing
diff --git a/src/about_author.txt b/src/about_author.txt
index ade4721..8f51909 100644
--- a/src/about_author.txt
+++ b/src/about_author.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: About Case Duckworth
+id: about_author
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Case Duckworth is the cowardly but lovable Great Dane who solves mysteries on TV.
diff --git a/src/amber-alert.txt b/src/amber-alert.txt
index c4c7176..f782378 100644
--- a/src/amber-alert.txt
+++ b/src/amber-alert.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: AMBER alert
+id: amber-alert
 genre: prose
 epigraph:
@@ -13,7 +14,7 @@ ekphrastic:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 6
    next:
    - title: Exasperated
diff --git a/src/and.txt b/src/and.txt
index 5e40517..25b83c6 100644
--- a/src/and.txt
+++ b/src/and.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: And
+id: and
 genre: verse
 epigraph:
@@ -12,7 +13,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 3
    next:
    - title: Words and meaning
diff --git a/src/angeltoabraham.txt b/src/angeltoabraham.txt
index 30c5168..ac7586c 100644
--- a/src/angeltoabraham.txt
+++ b/src/angeltoabraham.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The angel to Abraham
+id: angeltoabraham
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 10
    prev:
    - title: Dead man
diff --git a/src/apollo11.txt b/src/apollo11.txt
index 8e4b522..e04c0cb 100644
--- a/src/apollo11.txt
+++ b/src/apollo11.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: On seeing the panorama of the Apollo 11 landing site
+id: apollo11
 genre: verse
 ekphrastic:
@@ -9,7 +10,7 @@ ekphrastic:
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 5
    next:
    - title: Ars poetica
diff --git a/src/arspoetica.txt b/src/arspoetica.txt
index 1ceebcb..8e4a92b 100644
--- a/src/arspoetica.txt
+++ b/src/arspoetica.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Ars poetica
+id: arspoetica
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 6
    prev:
    - title: On seeing the panorama of the Apollo 11 landing site
diff --git a/src/art.txt b/src/art.txt
index 97f6512..1550658 100644
--- a/src/art.txt
+++ b/src/art.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Art
+id: art
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 1
    next:
    - title: Hymnal
diff --git a/src/axe.txt b/src/axe.txt
index cfc03d7..486d669 100644
--- a/src/axe.txt
+++ b/src/axe.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Axe
+id: axe
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 5
    next:
    - title: Leaf
diff --git a/src/big-dipper.txt b/src/big-dipper.txt
index 8208484..76942d5 100644
--- a/src/big-dipper.txt
+++ b/src/big-dipper.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The Big Dipper
+id: big-dipper
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 2
    next:
    - title: The Moon is drowning
diff --git a/src/boar.txt b/src/boar.txt
index a231aba..c8a6672 100644
--- a/src/boar.txt
+++ b/src/boar.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The boar
+id: boar
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 8
    prev:
    - title: The ocean overflows with camels
diff --git a/src/boy_bus.txt b/src/boy_bus.txt
index da16af2..4352c98 100644
--- a/src/boy_bus.txt
+++ b/src/boy_bus.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Boy on the bus
+id: boy_bus
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 9
    next:
    - title: I think it's you (but it's not)
diff --git a/src/building.txt b/src/building.txt
index 1a6066a..724b85f 100644
--- a/src/building.txt
+++ b/src/building.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Building
+id: building
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 28
    next:
    - title: Yellow
diff --git a/src/call-me-aural-pleasure.txt b/src/call-me-aural-pleasure.txt
index 6745c61..3b530f1 100644
--- a/src/call-me-aural-pleasure.txt
+++ b/src/call-me-aural-pleasure.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Call me
+id: call-me-aural-pleasure
 subtitle: aural pleasure
 genre: verse
@@ -10,7 +11,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Like _40_ as I challenge anyone to come too! \
diff --git a/src/cereal.txt b/src/cereal.txt
index 70fb5e3..b2a99ad 100644
--- a/src/cereal.txt
+++ b/src/cereal.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Cereal
+id: cereal
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 21
    next:
    - title: Man
diff --git a/src/cold-wind.txt b/src/cold-wind.txt
index 5cd04d8..c44376c 100644
--- a/src/cold-wind.txt
+++ b/src/cold-wind.txt

@@ -1,12 +1,13 @@
 ---
 title: Cold wind
+id: cold-wind
 genre: verse
 dedication: Justin
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 [Man of autumn][], cold wind, \
diff --git a/src/collage-instrument.txt b/src/collage-instrument.txt
index 387eaf9..2c5459d 100644
--- a/src/collage-instrument.txt
+++ b/src/collage-instrument.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: Instrumented
+id: collage-instrument
 subtitle: a collage
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 [`tr`][] has been a part of the Unix toolset since the late 70s.
diff --git a/src/common-titles.txt b/src/common-titles.txt
index a5c0120..485ae76 100644
--- a/src/common-titles.txt
+++ b/src/common-titles.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Autocento of the breakfast table
+id: common-titles
 subtitle: index of common titles
 genre: verse
@@ -9,12 +10,12 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 [100 lines](100-lines.html)
 [about the author](about-the-author.html),
-[Case Duckworth](about_author.html) (née
+[Case Duckworth](about_author.html) (nee
 [Amber): alert](amber-alert.html)!
 [And](and.html)
@@ -36,7 +37,7 @@ The [boy on the bus](boy_bus.html) is
 [Creation myth](creation-myth.html):
 [dead man](deadman.html) =
 [the death zone](death-zone.html) = \
-[Death’s trumpet](deathstrumpet.html).
+[Death's trumpet](deathstrumpet.html).
 [Dream](dream.html)
 [early](early.html).
@@ -57,8 +58,8 @@ setting a [fire](fire.html).
 [How to read this](howtoread.html)
 [hymnal](hymnal.html): \
-"[I am](i-am.html)." "[I think it’s \
+"[I am](i-am.html)." "[I think it's \
-you (but it’s not)](i-think-its-you.html)."
+you (but it's not)](i-think-its-you.html)."
 [I wanted to tell you something](i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html)
 [in bed](in-bed.html)--- \
@@ -66,7 +67,7 @@ you (but it’s not)](i-think-its-you.html)."
 the [initial conditions](initial-conditions.html)
 of [January](january.html)'s
 [joke](joke.html) are
-[_l’appel du vide_](lappel-du-vide.html). \
+[_l'appel du vide_](lappel-du-vide.html). \
 [The largest asteroid in the asteroid belt](largest-asteroid.html) is the
 [last bastion](last-bastion.html), \
 the [last passenger](last-passenger.html)
@@ -125,7 +126,7 @@ builds
 [the sixteenth chapel](sixteenth-chapel.html) in
 [snow](snow.html).
-[Let’s start with something simple](something-simple.html): \
+[Let's start with something simple](something-simple.html): \
 [spittle](spittle.html) on
 [the squirrel](squirrel.html) sitting
 [stagnant](stagnant.html). \
@@ -157,11 +158,11 @@ a [treatise](treatise.html) on
 [We played those games too](weplayedthosegamestoo.html).
-[When I’m sorry I wash dishes](when-im-sorry-i.html) in
+[When I'm sorry I wash dishes](when-im-sorry-i.html) in
 the [window](window.html), [walking \
-in the rain](walking-in-the-rain.html),
+in the rain](walking-in-the-rain.html), thinking \
-thinking about
+about
-[what we are made of](what-we-are-made-of.html):
+[what we are made of](what-we-are-made-of.html): \
 [words and meaning](words-meaning.html),
 [irritably reaching after reason](words-irritable-reaching.html).
 I feel [worse, \
diff --git a/src/creation-myth.txt b/src/creation-myth.txt
index d999f55..7691184 100644
--- a/src/creation-myth.txt
+++ b/src/creation-myth.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Creation myth
+id: creation-myth
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 So two hyperintelligent pandimensional beings \
diff --git a/src/deadman.txt b/src/deadman.txt
index b561486..813dd74 100644
--- a/src/deadman.txt
+++ b/src/deadman.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Dead man
+id: deadman
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 9
    prev:
    - title: The boar
diff --git a/src/death-zone.txt b/src/death-zone.txt
index 4afa336..043c5de 100644
--- a/src/death-zone.txt
+++ b/src/death-zone.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: The Death Zone
+id: death-zone
 genre: verse
 epigraph:
@@ -14,7 +15,7 @@ ekphrastic:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 7
    next:
    - title: The Big Dipper
diff --git a/src/deathstrumpet.txt b/src/deathstrumpet.txt
index f5ad1ed..7ce5f45 100644
--- a/src/deathstrumpet.txt
+++ b/src/deathstrumpet.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: "Death's trumpet"
+id: deathstrumpet
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 28
    prev:
      title: 'To Daniel: an elaboration'
diff --git a/src/dollywood.txt b/src/dollywood.txt
index 4bc9afa..4dba82a 100644
--- a/src/dollywood.txt
+++ b/src/dollywood.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: Something
+id: dollywood
 subtitle: about my tenure as a bear
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I turned off the TV as soon as the end credits began.
diff --git a/src/dream.txt b/src/dream.txt
index 55ee98c..0e1121d 100644
--- a/src/dream.txt
+++ b/src/dream.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Dream
+id: dream
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 4
    next:
    - title: Axe
diff --git a/src/early.txt b/src/early.txt
index 148ec7f..05ccad8 100644
--- a/src/early.txt
+++ b/src/early.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Early
+id: early
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 35
    next:
    - title: Toothpaste
diff --git a/src/elegyforanalternateself.txt b/src/elegyforanalternateself.txt
index 6d2af42..52a34a4 100644
--- a/src/elegyforanalternateself.txt
+++ b/src/elegyforanalternateself.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Elegy for an alternate self
+id: elegyforanalternateself
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Say there are no words.  Say that we are conjoined \
diff --git a/src/epigraph.txt b/src/epigraph.txt
index 800eadd..264bea6 100644
--- a/src/epigraph.txt
+++ b/src/epigraph.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: epigraph
+id: epigraph
 genre: prose
 epigraph:
@@ -7,7 +8,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 1
    next:
      title: How to read this
diff --git a/src/ex-machina.txt b/src/ex-machina.txt
index 03a9ac5..8b14e2e 100644
--- a/src/ex-machina.txt
+++ b/src/ex-machina.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Ex machina
+id: ex-machina
 genre: verse
 epigraph:
@@ -8,7 +9,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Bottom of the drink: they had \
diff --git a/src/exasperated.txt b/src/exasperated.txt
index 037302d..67b3242 100644
--- a/src/exasperated.txt
+++ b/src/exasperated.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Exasperated
+id: exasperated
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 8
    next:
    - title: The Death Zone
diff --git a/src/father.txt b/src/father.txt
index f955ae2..af24d8d 100644
--- a/src/father.txt
+++ b/src/father.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Father
+id: father
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 37
    next:
    - title: Paul
diff --git a/src/feedingtheraven.txt b/src/feedingtheraven.txt
index bad14fc..af0f74b 100644
--- a/src/feedingtheraven.txt
+++ b/src/feedingtheraven.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Feeding the raven
+id: feedingtheraven
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 11
    prev:
    - title: The angel to Abraham
diff --git a/src/finding-the-lion.txt b/src/finding-the-lion.txt
index 01cb4e6..068b18b 100644
--- a/src/finding-the-lion.txt
+++ b/src/finding-the-lion.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Finding the Lion
+id: finding-the-lion
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Tonight, as I look up, the stars \
diff --git a/src/fire.txt b/src/fire.txt
index b44170b..25e8bcf 100644
--- a/src/fire.txt
+++ b/src/fire.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Fire
+id: fire
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 39
    next:
    - title: Hands
diff --git a/src/first-lines.txt b/src/first-lines.txt
index c3cf522..faa75b7 100644
--- a/src/first-lines.txt
+++ b/src/first-lines.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: Autocento of the breakfast table
+id: first-lines
 subtitle: index of first lines
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 [A dead man finds his way into our hearts](deadman.html)
diff --git a/src/found-typewriter-poem.txt b/src/found-typewriter-poem.txt
index f6fd201..d1fce47 100644
--- a/src/found-typewriter-poem.txt
+++ b/src/found-typewriter-poem.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Look
+id: found-typewriter-poem
 subtitle: a found typewriter poem
 genre: verse
@@ -12,7 +13,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Look, I say---look here--- \
diff --git a/src/hands.txt b/src/hands.txt
index e0a3ffb..adf08a9 100644
--- a/src/hands.txt
+++ b/src/hands.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Hands
+id: hands
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 10
    next:
    - title: Toilet
diff --git a/src/hard-game.txt b/src/hard-game.txt
index b9ca6b2..7ad6d65 100644
--- a/src/hard-game.txt
+++ b/src/hard-game.txt

@@ -1,12 +1,13 @@
 ---
 title: A hard game
+id: hard-game
 genre: verse
 dedication: Jim Henson
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 You think building Hoggle's a hard game?  \
diff --git a/src/hardware.txt b/src/hardware.txt
index 6174970..dfe46bb 100644
--- a/src/hardware.txt
+++ b/src/hardware.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Hardware
+id: hardware
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 14
    next:
    - title: Treatise
diff --git a/src/howithappened.txt b/src/howithappened.txt
index 9748bbd..4e606f4 100644
--- a/src/howithappened.txt
+++ b/src/howithappened.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: How it happened
+id: howithappened
 genre: 'verse'
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 14
    prev:
    - title: I am
diff --git a/src/howtoread.txt b/src/howtoread.txt
index fa7dc48..3f3a3eb 100644
--- a/src/howtoread.txt
+++ b/src/howtoread.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: How to read this
+id: howtoread
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 2
    next:
    - title: And
diff --git a/src/hymnal.txt b/src/hymnal.txt
index 1a4357c..4d7797e 100644
--- a/src/hymnal.txt
+++ b/src/hymnal.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Hymnal
+id: hymnal
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 2
    next:
    - title: Underwear
diff --git a/src/i-am.txt b/src/i-am.txt
index d6c7526..c9d949f 100644
--- a/src/i-am.txt
+++ b/src/i-am.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: I am
+id: i-am
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 13
    prev:
    - title: On formal poetry
diff --git a/src/i-think-its-you.txt b/src/i-think-its-you.txt
index 8c44a4f..8f90151 100644
--- a/src/i-think-its-you.txt
+++ b/src/i-think-its-you.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: I think it's you (but it's not)
+id: i-think-its-you
 genre: verse
 epigraph:
@@ -8,7 +9,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 15
    next:
    - title: Initial conditions
diff --git a/src/i-want-to-say.txt b/src/i-want-to-say.txt
index f29f6ee..52763fd 100644
--- a/src/i-want-to-say.txt
+++ b/src/i-want-to-say.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: I want to say
+id: i-want-to-say
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I want to say I take it all back \
diff --git a/src/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.txt b/src/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.txt
index e95d696..3f6423e 100644
--- a/src/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.txt
+++ b/src/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: I wanted to tell you something
+id: i-wanted-to-tell-you-something
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I wanted to tell you something in order [to][] \
diff --git a/src/in-bed.txt b/src/in-bed.txt
index eedc913..300891f 100644
--- a/src/in-bed.txt
+++ b/src/in-bed.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: In bed
+id: in-bed
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 ## I
diff --git a/src/initial-conditions.txt b/src/initial-conditions.txt
index f3af3c9..f22ebfc 100644
--- a/src/initial-conditions.txt
+++ b/src/initial-conditions.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Initial conditions
+id: initial-conditions
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 11
    next:
    - title: Love as God
diff --git a/src/january.txt b/src/january.txt
index dbe1bf0..71fe3be 100644
--- a/src/january.txt
+++ b/src/january.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: January
+id: january
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 January.  \
diff --git a/src/joke.txt b/src/joke.txt
index dad5ec9..a9f5add 100644
--- a/src/joke.txt
+++ b/src/joke.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Joke
+id: joke
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 33
    next:
    - title: Stump
diff --git a/src/lappel-du-vide.txt b/src/lappel-du-vide.txt
index 49c7f2d..49c4da9 100644
--- a/src/lappel-du-vide.txt
+++ b/src/lappel-du-vide.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: L'appel du vide
+id: lappel-du-vide
 genre: prose
 epigraph:
@@ -9,7 +10,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 14
    next:
    - title: Boy on the bus
diff --git a/src/largest-asteroid.txt b/src/largest-asteroid.txt
index 7e68ec8..5b245ac 100644
--- a/src/largest-asteroid.txt
+++ b/src/largest-asteroid.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The largest asteroid in the asteroid belt
+id: largest-asteroid
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 What secrets does it hold?  \
diff --git a/src/last-bastion.txt b/src/last-bastion.txt
index 5b20c23..ebb0350 100644
--- a/src/last-bastion.txt
+++ b/src/last-bastion.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Last bastion
+id: last-bastion
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 10
    next:
    - title: AMBER alert
diff --git a/src/last-passenger.txt b/src/last-passenger.txt
index de34ab3..e54a456 100644
--- a/src/last-passenger.txt
+++ b/src/last-passenger.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Last passenger
+id: last-passenger
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 TODO: revise based on reading notes
 ...
diff --git a/src/leaf.txt b/src/leaf.txt
index 50d3b2c..5563952 100644
--- a/src/leaf.txt
+++ b/src/leaf.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Leaf
+id: leaf
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 3
    next:
    - title: Writing
diff --git a/src/leg.txt b/src/leg.txt
index 3c60fe7..6d9112c 100644
--- a/src/leg.txt
+++ b/src/leg.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Leg
+id: leg
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 12
    next:
    - title: Planks
diff --git a/src/likingthings.txt b/src/likingthings.txt
index 39a124e..b48ec77 100644
--- a/src/likingthings.txt
+++ b/src/likingthings.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Liking Things
+id: likingthings
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 7
    prev:
    - title: Problems
diff --git a/src/listen.txt b/src/listen.txt
index 8d9416b..1a6b05a 100644
--- a/src/listen.txt
+++ b/src/listen.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Listen
+id: listen
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 If you swallow hard enough \
diff --git a/src/love-as-god.txt b/src/love-as-god.txt
index af563a3..12a45ca 100644
--- a/src/love-as-god.txt
+++ b/src/love-as-god.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Love as God
+id: love-as-god
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 13
    next:
    - title: Worse looking over
diff --git a/src/lovesong.txt b/src/lovesong.txt
index f8a42b1..9f86d19 100644
--- a/src/lovesong.txt
+++ b/src/lovesong.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Love Song
+id: lovesong
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 15
    prev:
    - title: How it happened
diff --git a/src/man.txt b/src/man.txt
index 9c0fe3b..c59084e 100644
--- a/src/man.txt
+++ b/src/man.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Man
+id: man
 genre: prose
 ekphrastic:
@@ -9,7 +10,7 @@ ekphrastic:
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 22
    next:
    - title: Snow
diff --git a/src/manifesto_poetics.txt b/src/manifesto_poetics.txt
index dadbeb9..988c047 100644
--- a/src/manifesto_poetics.txt
+++ b/src/manifesto_poetics.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Manifesto of poetics
+id: manifesto_poetics
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Stark raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
 ...
 What is a poem?
diff --git a/src/moon-drowning.txt b/src/moon-drowning.txt
index 732407b..3287895 100644
--- a/src/moon-drowning.txt
+++ b/src/moon-drowning.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The Moon is drowning
+id: moon-drowning
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 3
    next:
    - title: Something about all music being performances of _4&prime;33&Prime;_ in places where other bands happen to be playing
diff --git a/src/moongone.txt b/src/moongone.txt
index fd7e60d..6504823 100644
--- a/src/moongone.txt
+++ b/src/moongone.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: The moon is gone and in its place a mirror
+id: moongone
 genre: prose
 ekphrastic:
@@ -9,7 +10,7 @@ ekphrastic:
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 18
    prev:
    - title: Ronald McDonald
diff --git a/src/mountain.txt b/src/mountain.txt
index 80e1b3c..abfac30 100644
--- a/src/mountain.txt
+++ b/src/mountain.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The mountain
+id: mountain
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 19
    prev:
    - title: The moon is gone and in its place a mirror
diff --git a/src/movingsideways.txt b/src/movingsideways.txt
index 12ad192..c532447 100644
--- a/src/movingsideways.txt
+++ b/src/movingsideways.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Moving Sideways
+id: movingsideways
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 5
    next:
    - title: Problems
diff --git a/src/music-433.txt b/src/music-433.txt
index 08a148a..c75f931 100644
--- a/src/music-433.txt
+++ b/src/music-433.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Something
+id: music-433
 subtitle: 'about all music being performances of _4&prime;33&Prime;_ in places where other bands happen to be playing'
 genre: verse
@@ -7,7 +8,7 @@ dedication: '[Randall](https://xkcd.com/1199/)'
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 18
    next:
    - title: Riptide of memory
diff --git a/src/no-nothing.txt b/src/no-nothing.txt
index c48fa14..2b97892 100644
--- a/src/no-nothing.txt
+++ b/src/no-nothing.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: No nothing
+id: no-nothing
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 | While [swimming in the river][]
diff --git a/src/notes.txt b/src/notes.txt
index 003efcd..1a3f52d 100644
--- a/src/notes.txt
+++ b/src/notes.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Notes
+id: notes
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 8
    next:
    - title: Shed
diff --git a/src/nothing-is-ever-over.txt b/src/nothing-is-ever-over.txt
index 3e41a1b..a26d985 100644
--- a/src/nothing-is-ever-over.txt
+++ b/src/nothing-is-ever-over.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Nothing is ever over
+id: nothing-is-ever-over
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 [Nothing is ever over][]; nothing \
diff --git a/src/on-genre-dimension.txt b/src/on-genre-dimension.txt
index 09314ca..088b489 100644
--- a/src/on-genre-dimension.txt
+++ b/src/on-genre-dimension.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: On genre and the dimensionality of poetry
+id: on-genre-dimension
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 How does one describe a poem?
diff --git a/src/onformalpoetry.txt b/src/onformalpoetry.txt
index 7dc5fc4..56ee52d 100644
--- a/src/onformalpoetry.txt
+++ b/src/onformalpoetry.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: On formal poetry
+id: onformalpoetry
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 12
    prev:
    - title: Feeding the raven
diff --git a/src/options.txt b/src/options.txt
index 7513ad5..7bdbaa4 100644
--- a/src/options.txt
+++ b/src/options.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Options
+id: options
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 26
    next:
    - title: Stagnant
diff --git a/src/ouroboros_memory.txt b/src/ouroboros_memory.txt
index 59c347f..732d525 100644
--- a/src/ouroboros_memory.txt
+++ b/src/ouroboros_memory.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Ouroboros of Memory
+id: ouroboros_memory
 genre: prose
 epigraph:
@@ -12,7 +13,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 12
    next:
    - title: L'appel du vide
diff --git a/src/paul.txt b/src/paul.txt
index baaa1b9..67a019a 100644
--- a/src/paul.txt
+++ b/src/paul.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Paul
+id: paul
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 38
    next:
    - title: Fire
diff --git a/src/peaches.txt b/src/peaches.txt
index 0019ec9..ddb1038 100644
--- a/src/peaches.txt
+++ b/src/peaches.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Peaches
+id: peaches
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 "My anger is like a peach," he said.
diff --git a/src/philosophy.txt b/src/philosophy.txt
index 8803cc0..ce43a28 100644
--- a/src/philosophy.txt
+++ b/src/philosophy.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Philosophy
+id: philosophy
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 3
    next:
    - title: Proverbs
diff --git a/src/phone.txt b/src/phone.txt
index 38d2102..b3c89f5 100644
--- a/src/phone.txt
+++ b/src/phone.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Phone
+id: phone
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 16
    next:
    - title: Tapestry
diff --git a/src/planks.txt b/src/planks.txt
index 4502d76..de6535e 100644
--- a/src/planks.txt
+++ b/src/planks.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Planks
+id: planks
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 13
    next:
    - title: Hardware
diff --git a/src/plant.txt b/src/plant.txt
index 67912b4..05d8ad1 100644
--- a/src/plant.txt
+++ b/src/plant.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Litany for a plant
+id: plant
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I need a plant.  I need a thing \
diff --git a/src/poetry-time.txt b/src/poetry-time.txt
index a861901..b69130b 100644
--- a/src/poetry-time.txt
+++ b/src/poetry-time.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: Something
+id: poetry-time
 subtitle: about the nature of poetry and time
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 5
    next:
    - title: The Moon is drowning
diff --git a/src/prelude.txt b/src/prelude.txt
index 1dbd8e6..52ba8aa 100644
--- a/src/prelude.txt
+++ b/src/prelude.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Prelude
+id: prelude
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 1
    next:
    - title: The purpose of dogs
diff --git a/src/problems.txt b/src/problems.txt
index d0f2218..27df4df 100644
--- a/src/problems.txt
+++ b/src/problems.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Problems
+id: problems
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 6
    next:
    - title: Liking things
diff --git a/src/proverbs.txt b/src/proverbs.txt
index 759c094..bd59fb4 100644
--- a/src/proverbs.txt
+++ b/src/proverbs.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Proverbs
+id: proverbs
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 4
    next:
    - title: Moving sideways
diff --git a/src/punch.txt b/src/punch.txt
index 8243563..46f9451 100644
--- a/src/punch.txt
+++ b/src/punch.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Punch
+id: punch
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 32
    next:
    - title: Joke
diff --git a/src/purpose-dogs.txt b/src/purpose-dogs.txt
index 93487d6..0fb9356 100644
--- a/src/purpose-dogs.txt
+++ b/src/purpose-dogs.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The purpose of dogs
+id: purpose-dogs
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Book of Hezekiah
-    css: hezekiah
+    class: hezekiah
    order: 2
    next:
    - title: Philosophy
diff --git a/src/question.txt b/src/question.txt
index 39e7084..8eb261b 100644
--- a/src/question.txt
+++ b/src/question.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Question
+id: question
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 19
    next:
    - title: Sapling
diff --git a/src/real-writer.txt b/src/real-writer.txt
index a2b380f..03840b1 100644
--- a/src/real-writer.txt
+++ b/src/real-writer.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: A real writer
+id: real-writer
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Sometimes I feel as though I am not a real writer.  \
diff --git a/src/reports.txt b/src/reports.txt
index fe2c6c9..96d6451 100644
--- a/src/reports.txt
+++ b/src/reports.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Reports
+id: reports
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 24
    next:
    - title: Swear
diff --git a/src/riptide_memory.txt b/src/riptide_memory.txt
index e852da8..365d90f 100644
--- a/src/riptide_memory.txt
+++ b/src/riptide_memory.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Riptide of memory
+id: riptide_memory
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 16
    next:
    - title: About the author
diff --git a/src/ronaldmcdonald.txt b/src/ronaldmcdonald.txt
index 5081502..63ec87a 100644
--- a/src/ronaldmcdonald.txt
+++ b/src/ronaldmcdonald.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Ronald McDonald
+id: ronaldmcdonald
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 17
    prev:
    - title: Rough gloves
diff --git a/src/roughgloves.txt b/src/roughgloves.txt
index 5a212f5..d2de590 100644
--- a/src/roughgloves.txt
+++ b/src/roughgloves.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Rough gloves
+id: roughgloves
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 16
    prev:
    - title: Love Song
diff --git a/src/sapling.txt b/src/sapling.txt
index 53820dc..b1ba401 100644
--- a/src/sapling.txt
+++ b/src/sapling.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Sapling
+id: sapling
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 20
    next:
    - title: Cereal
diff --git a/src/seasonal-affective-disorder.txt b/src/seasonal-affective-disorder.txt
index 41e5ae0..0a7e7ed 100644
--- a/src/seasonal-affective-disorder.txt
+++ b/src/seasonal-affective-disorder.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Seasonal affective disorder
+id: seasonal-affective-disorder
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 On your desk I set a tangerine:  \
diff --git a/src/sense-of-it.txt b/src/sense-of-it.txt
index 31b971b..e21ea3c 100644
--- a/src/sense-of-it.txt
+++ b/src/sense-of-it.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Sense of it
+id: sense-of-it
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I only write poems on [the bus][] anymore.  \
diff --git a/src/serengeti.txt b/src/serengeti.txt
index da6e659..bbef77b 100644
--- a/src/serengeti.txt
+++ b/src/serengeti.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Serengeti
+id: serengeti
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 20
    prev:
    - title: The mountain
diff --git a/src/shed.txt b/src/shed.txt
index 644e6ad..a2e82b2 100644
--- a/src/shed.txt
+++ b/src/shed.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Shed
+id: shed
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 9
    next:
    - title: Hands
diff --git a/src/shipwright.txt b/src/shipwright.txt
index af698e3..c60dcb0 100644
--- a/src/shipwright.txt
+++ b/src/shipwright.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The shipwright
+id: shipwright
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 21
    prev:
    - title: Serengeti
diff --git a/src/sixteenth-chapel.txt b/src/sixteenth-chapel.txt
index 5ff28cd..f117bc6 100644
--- a/src/sixteenth-chapel.txt
+++ b/src/sixteenth-chapel.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: The Sixteenth Chapel
+id: sixteenth-chapel
 genre: verse
 epigraph:
@@ -11,7 +12,7 @@ dedication: Max
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 17
    next:
    - title: Last bastion
diff --git a/src/snow.txt b/src/snow.txt
index 3e40952..20e2c8d 100644
--- a/src/snow.txt
+++ b/src/snow.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Snow
+id: snow
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 23
    next:
    - title: Reports
diff --git a/src/something-simple.txt b/src/something-simple.txt
index 02c9f40..d657c37 100644
--- a/src/something-simple.txt
+++ b/src/something-simple.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: "Let's start with something simple:"
+id: something-simple
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 in mammals the ratio between bladder size \
diff --git a/src/spittle.txt b/src/spittle.txt
index 1bc65aa..ac07496 100644
--- a/src/spittle.txt
+++ b/src/spittle.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Spittle
+id: spittle
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 22
    prev:
    - title: The shipwright
diff --git a/src/squirrel.txt b/src/squirrel.txt
index fb18c8a..d874530 100644
--- a/src/squirrel.txt
+++ b/src/squirrel.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The squirrel
+id: squirrel
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 23
    prev:
    - title: Spittle
diff --git a/src/stagnant.txt b/src/stagnant.txt
index 90af9ac..56a3594 100644
--- a/src/stagnant.txt
+++ b/src/stagnant.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Stagnant
+id: stagnant
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 27
    next:
    - title: Building
diff --git a/src/statements-frag.txt b/src/statements-frag.txt
index 6385234..63d160c 100644
--- a/src/statements-frag.txt
+++ b/src/statements-frag.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: Statements
+id: statements-frag
 subtitle: a fragment
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I. Eli {#eli}
diff --git a/src/stayed-on-the-bus.txt b/src/stayed-on-the-bus.txt
index d1818a3..c3dcae7 100644
--- a/src/stayed-on-the-bus.txt
+++ b/src/stayed-on-the-bus.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Stayed on the bus too long
+id: stayed-on-the-bus
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 It was a [gamble][] \
diff --git a/src/stump.txt b/src/stump.txt
index 55cd38f..90454e4 100644
--- a/src/stump.txt
+++ b/src/stump.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Stump
+id: stump
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 34
    next:
    - title: Early
diff --git a/src/swansong-alt.txt b/src/swansong-alt.txt
index 1664bba..0c470b7 100644
--- a/src/swansong-alt.txt
+++ b/src/swansong-alt.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: Swansong
+id: swansong-alt
 subtitle: alternate version
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 This poem is dry like [chapped lips][].  \
diff --git a/src/swansong.txt b/src/swansong.txt
index 4041600..a032def 100644
--- a/src/swansong.txt
+++ b/src/swansong.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Swan song
+id: swansong
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 24
    prev:
    - title: The squirrel
diff --git a/src/swear.txt b/src/swear.txt
index 90fc559..43d5e8e 100644
--- a/src/swear.txt
+++ b/src/swear.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Swear
+id: swear
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 25
    next:
    - title: Options
diff --git a/src/table_contents.txt b/src/table_contents.txt
index 8334561..ba7286e 100644
--- a/src/table_contents.txt
+++ b/src/table_contents.txt

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 ---
 title: Table of contents
+id: table_contents
 genre: verse
 epigraph:
@@ -8,7 +9,7 @@ epigraph:
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 1
    next:
    - title: Ouroboros of memory
diff --git a/src/tapestry.txt b/src/tapestry.txt
index bfaf24a..b135b0a 100644
--- a/src/tapestry.txt
+++ b/src/tapestry.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Tapestry
+id: tapestry
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 17
    next:
    - title: Window
diff --git a/src/telemarketer.txt b/src/telemarketer.txt
index 0ae9ba5..1b25817 100644
--- a/src/telemarketer.txt
+++ b/src/telemarketer.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Telemarketer
+id: telemarketer
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 25
    prev:
    - title: Swan song
diff --git a/src/the-night-we-met.txt b/src/the-night-we-met.txt
index 303f547..1d90227 100644
--- a/src/the-night-we-met.txt
+++ b/src/the-night-we-met.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: The night we met, I was out of my mind
+id: the-night-we-met
 subtitle: or lying in the dark
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 My head is [full of fire][], my tongue swollen, \
diff --git a/src/the-sea_the-beach.txt b/src/the-sea_the-beach.txt
index 6c523fd..60f44fa 100644
--- a/src/the-sea_the-beach.txt
+++ b/src/the-sea_the-beach.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The sea and the beach
+id: the-sea_the-beach
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Waiting for a reading to start \
diff --git a/src/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.txt b/src/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.txt
index 4a3f165..fa1e12c 100644
--- a/src/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.txt
+++ b/src/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: The ocean overflows with camels
+id: theoceanoverflowswithcamels
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 7
    prev:
    - title: Ars poetica
diff --git a/src/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.txt b/src/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.txt
index cd56bdd..50f8001 100644
--- a/src/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.txt
+++ b/src/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Time looks up to the sky
+id: time-looks-up-to-the-sky
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I wish I'd kissed you when I had the chance.  \
diff --git a/src/todaniel.txt b/src/todaniel.txt
index bf2941f..37b0823 100644
--- a/src/todaniel.txt
+++ b/src/todaniel.txt

@@ -1,11 +1,12 @@
 ---
 title: To Daniel
+id: todaniel
 subtitle: an elaboration of a previous comment
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 27
    prev:
    - title: We played those games too
diff --git a/src/toilet.txt b/src/toilet.txt
index 7ec0603..44217d2 100644
--- a/src/toilet.txt
+++ b/src/toilet.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Toilet
+id: toilet
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 11
    next:
    - title: Leg
diff --git a/src/toothpaste.txt b/src/toothpaste.txt
index 401483c..89d15d0 100644
--- a/src/toothpaste.txt
+++ b/src/toothpaste.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Toothpaste
+id: toothpaste
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 36
    next:
    - title: Father
diff --git a/src/treatise.txt b/src/treatise.txt
index 9ae732a..2fdbde8 100644
--- a/src/treatise.txt
+++ b/src/treatise.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Treatise
+id: treatise
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 15
    next:
    - title: Phone
diff --git a/src/underwear.txt b/src/underwear.txt
index a14e51b..34e52aa 100644
--- a/src/underwear.txt
+++ b/src/underwear.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Underwear
+id: underwear
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 3
    next:
    - title: Dream
diff --git a/src/walking-in-the-rain.txt b/src/walking-in-the-rain.txt
index ee03183..010e172 100644
--- a/src/walking-in-the-rain.txt
+++ b/src/walking-in-the-rain.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Walking in the rain
+id: walking-in-the-rain
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 I can walk through the rain, [that rare occurrence][] \
diff --git a/src/wallpaper.txt b/src/wallpaper.txt
index 84c49ea..501e89a 100644
--- a/src/wallpaper.txt
+++ b/src/wallpaper.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Wallpaper
+id: wallpaper
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 31
    next:
    - title: Punch
diff --git a/src/weplayedthosegamestoo.txt b/src/weplayedthosegamestoo.txt
index f8dafed..18a96bb 100644
--- a/src/weplayedthosegamestoo.txt
+++ b/src/weplayedthosegamestoo.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: We played those games too
+id: weplayedthosegamestoo
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 25
    prev:
    - title: Telemarketer
diff --git a/src/what-we-are-made-of.txt b/src/what-we-are-made-of.txt
index 2e1c1e1..304cc17 100644
--- a/src/what-we-are-made-of.txt
+++ b/src/what-we-are-made-of.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: What we are made of
+id: what-we-are-made-of
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 There is a cave just outside of Flagstaff made from ancient lava flows.
diff --git a/src/when-im-sorry-i.txt b/src/when-im-sorry-i.txt
index ee2ceda..ef99fc7 100644
--- a/src/when-im-sorry-i.txt
+++ b/src/when-im-sorry-i.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: When I'm sorry I wash dishes
+id: when-im-sorry-i
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Your casserole dish takes the longest: \
diff --git a/src/window.txt b/src/window.txt
index 80bb3b9..64402b6 100644
--- a/src/window.txt
+++ b/src/window.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Window
+id: window
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 18
    next:
    - title: Question
diff --git a/src/words-irritable-reaching.txt b/src/words-irritable-reaching.txt
index 97d3e8c..77ce7c5 100644
--- a/src/words-irritable-reaching.txt
+++ b/src/words-irritable-reaching.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Words and their irritable reaching
+id: words-irritable-reaching
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
-    css: autocento
+    class: autocento
 ...
 Somewhere I remember reading advice for beginning writers not to show their work to anyone, at least that in the early stages.
diff --git a/src/words-meaning.txt b/src/words-meaning.txt
index c0fba74..d23284c 100644
--- a/src/words-meaning.txt
+++ b/src/words-meaning.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Words and meaning
+id: words-meaning
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    css: elegies
+    class: elegies
    order: 4
    prev:
    - title: And
diff --git a/src/worse-looking-over.txt b/src/worse-looking-over.txt
index 8e48587..d5bcdb0 100644
--- a/src/worse-looking-over.txt
+++ b/src/worse-looking-over.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Worse looking over
+id: worse-looking-over
 genre: verse
 project:
    title: Stark Raving
-    css: stark
+    class: stark
    order: 4
    next:
    - title: The Sixteenth Chapel
diff --git a/src/writing.txt b/src/writing.txt
index 631bc04..a245014 100644
--- a/src/writing.txt
+++ b/src/writing.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Writing
+id: writing
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 7
    next:
    - title: Notes
diff --git a/src/x-ray.txt b/src/x-ray.txt
index de900de..aeef3c4 100644
--- a/src/x-ray.txt
+++ b/src/x-ray.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: X-ray
+id: x-ray
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 30
    next:
    - title: Wallpaper
diff --git a/src/yellow.txt b/src/yellow.txt
index be458ca..eb88c80 100644
--- a/src/yellow.txt
+++ b/src/yellow.txt

@@ -1,10 +1,11 @@
 ---
 title: Yellow
+id: yellow
 genre: prose
 project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
-    css: paul
+    class: paul
    order: 29
    next:
    - title: X-ray
diff --git a/stagnant.html b/stagnant.html
index c38971d..86ecbd5 100644
--- a/stagnant.html
+++ b/stagnant.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Stagnant | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="stagnant" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Stagnant</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“Riding the bus to work is a good way to think or to read” Paul thought to himself on the bus ride to work. His thoughts couldn’t become real to him because he didn’t want to look insane to everyone else on the bus. His thoughts came to him like someone <a href="sense-of-it.html">yelling over a hard wind</a>. He was trying to write them on his memory but the act of writing was easier and more immediate than that of listening. He was afraid that when he looked at his memory later he wouldn’t be able to read what was written.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Thoughts are like the wind outside a moving bus” he thought “or rather the bus is a brain slamming into columns of stagnant air causing them to whistle past in a confusion of something.” He could barely hear the voice <a href="cold-wind.html">yelling to him over the wind</a>. “Speak up” he thought to the voice, then remembered it was his own. He wished he’d remembered a book to read.</p>
+            <p>“Riding the bus to work is a good way to think or to read” Paul thought to himself on the bus ride to work. His thoughts couldn’t become real to him because he didn’t want to look insane to everyone else on the bus. His thoughts came to him like someone <a href="sense-of-it.html">yelling over a hard wind</a>. He was trying to write them on his memory but the act of writing was easier and more immediate than that of listening. He was afraid that when he looked at his memory later he wouldn’t be able to read what was written.</p>
-<p>He looked at his hands to pass the time. <a href="hands.html">They were dry in the winter air</a> that had seeped its way into the bus. He tried to figure out how many hours they would make it before cracking and bleeding. “Maybe three or four” he thought accidentally out loud. He looked around expecting stares from everyone on the seat. <a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">He was surprised that he was the only one on the bus.</a></p></section>
+            <p>“Thoughts are like the wind outside a moving bus” he thought “or rather the bus is a brain slamming into columns of stagnant air causing them to whistle past in a confusion of something.” He could barely hear the voice <a href="cold-wind.html">yelling to him over the wind</a>. “Speak up” he thought to the voice, then remembered it was his own. He wished he’d remembered a book to read.</p>
+            <p>He looked at his hands to pass the time. <a href="hands.html">They were dry in the winter air</a> that had seeped its way into the bus. He tried to figure out how many hours they would make it before cracking and bleeding. “Maybe three or four” he thought accidentally out loud. He looked around expecting stares from everyone on the seat. <a href="stayed-on-the-bus.html">He was surprised that he was the only one on the bus.</a></p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="options.html"
diff --git a/statements-frag.html b/statements-frag.html
index a15af0f..72a46a2 100644
--- a/statements-frag.html
+++ b/statements-frag.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Statements | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="statements-frag" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Statements</h1>
@@ -40,26 +36,28 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><section id="eli" class="level2">
+        <section class="content prose">
-<h2>I. Eli</h2>
+            <section id="eli" class="level2">
-<p>“Can one truly describe an emotion?” Eli asked me over the walkie-talkie. He was in the bathroom, &amp; had taken the walkie-talkie in with him absent-mindedly. I could hear sounds of his piss hitting the toilet water.</p>
+            <h2>I. Eli</h2>
-<p>“I can hear you peeing,” I said. He didn’t answer so I said in apology, “It’s okay. Humans are sexually dimorphic.” I was sitting on my blue baby blanket texting Jon, who was funny and amicable over the phone. He made a three-message joke about greedy lawyers and I would have been laughing if not for my embarrassment toward Eli. He finally came out of the bathroom and kept his eyes straight ahead, toward the wall calendar and not at me, as he passed through the family room into his bedroom, were he shut the door quietly. Presently I heard some muffled noise as he turned on his iPod. I guessed he didn’t feel like talking so I stayed on my blanket watching the <em>Price is Right</em> and texting Jon.</p>
+            <p>“Can one truly describe an emotion?” Eli asked me over the walkie-talkie. He was in the bathroom, &amp; had taken the walkie-talkie in with him absent-mindedly. I could hear sounds of his piss hitting the toilet water.</p>
-<p>Drew Carrey was doing his wrap-up speech on TV when Eli finally came out of his room, red puffy streaks covering his face. His eyes and nose were red too, which was almost festive against the pale green and white of the <a href="wallpaper.html">wallpaper</a>. I had been laughing at the goofy costumes on the <em>Price is Right</em> and the jokes Jon was texting me, but when Eli came out of the room I stopped and just looked at him as well as I could. He was staring at my right shoulder as he said, “Go home now.”</p>
+            <p>“I can hear you peeing,” I said. He didn’t answer so I said in apology, “It’s okay. Humans are sexually dimorphic.” I was sitting on my blue baby blanket texting Jon, who was funny and amicable over the phone. He made a three-message joke about greedy lawyers and I would have been laughing if not for my embarrassment toward Eli. He finally came out of the bathroom and kept his eyes straight ahead, toward the wall calendar and not at me, as he passed through the family room into his bedroom, were he shut the door quietly. Presently I heard some muffled noise as he turned on his iPod. I guessed he didn’t feel like talking so I stayed on my blanket watching the <em>Price is Right</em> and texting Jon.</p>
-<p>“What?”</p>
+            <p>Drew Carrey was doing his wrap-up speech on TV when Eli finally came out of his room, red puffy streaks covering his face. His eyes and nose were red too, which was almost festive against the pale green and white of the <a href="wallpaper.html">wallpaper</a>. I had been laughing at the goofy costumes on the <em>Price is Right</em> and the jokes Jon was texting me, but when Eli came out of the room I stopped and just looked at him as well as I could. He was staring at my right shoulder as he said, “Go home now.”</p>
-<p>“<a href="lappel-du-vide.html">I said go home now</a>. I don’t want you here anymore, because I just remembered I have someone coming over and I have to clean.”</p>
+            <p>“What?”</p>
-<p>“Look, Eli, I’m sorry—”</p>
+            <p>“<a href="lappel-du-vide.html">I said go home now</a>. I don’t want you here anymore, because I just remembered I have someone coming over and I have to clean.”</p>
-<p>“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, I swear. Just go, okay? <a href="riptide_memory.html">Go home now</a>.”</p>
+            <p>“Look, Eli, I’m sorry—”</p>
-<p>I got up and tried to give him a hug but he withdrew from me sharply. So I walked around the coffee table as he sat down, not looking at me anymore, and stared at the blank TV. The blanket I had been sitting in was crumpled next to him like a dead bird. I opened my mouth but thought better of talking, and closed the door behind me slowly.</p>
+            <p>“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, I swear. Just go, okay? <a href="riptide_memory.html">Go home now</a>.”</p>
-</section>
+            <p>I got up and tried to give him a hug but he withdrew from me sharply. So I walked around the coffee table as he sat down, not looking at me anymore, and stared at the blank TV. The blanket I had been sitting in was crumpled next to him like a dead bird. I opened my mouth but thought better of talking, and closed the door behind me slowly.</p>
-<section id="dimorphic" class="level2 verse">
+            </section>
-<h2>II. Dimorphic</h2>
+            <section id="dimorphic" class="level2 verse">
-<p><a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Oranges</a>. Poison. A compromise<br />between Mary &amp; <a href="spittle.html">Judas</a>. Blue<br />baby blankets swaddling greedy lawyers.</p>
+            <h2>II. Dimorphic</h2>
-<p>Can one truly describe an emotion?<br />I cut my ankle with a razor blade.<br />I can only go one at a time. Humanity<br />has a seething mass of eels<br />for a brain, mating in the water so forcefully<br />that it could <a href="moon-drowning.html">drown you under the moon</a>.</p>
+            <p><a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Oranges</a>. Poison. A compromise<br />between Mary &amp; <a href="spittle.html">Judas</a>. Blue<br />baby blankets swaddling greedy lawyers.</p>
-</section>
+            <p>Can one truly describe an emotion?<br />I cut my ankle with a razor blade.<br />I can only go one at a time. Humanity<br />has a seething mass of eels<br />for a brain, mating in the water so forcefully<br />that it could <a href="moon-drowning.html">drown you under the moon</a>.</p>
-<section id="declaration-of-poetry" class="level2">
+            </section>
-<h2>III. Declaration of Poetry</h2>
+            <section id="declaration-of-poetry" class="level2">
-<p>You have to go one line at a time, and you have to start on the first or second line.</p>
+            <h2>III. Declaration of Poetry</h2>
-</section></section>
+            <p>You have to go one line at a time, and you have to start on the first or second line.</p>
+            </section>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/stayed-on-the-bus.html b/stayed-on-the-bus.html
index 0fc0a27..1c7d443 100644
--- a/stayed-on-the-bus.html
+++ b/stayed-on-the-bus.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Stayed on the bus too long | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="stayed-on-the-bus" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Stayed on the bus too long</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>It was a <a href="hard-game.html">gamble</a><br />I lost—thought I could get closer<br />than the library, stayed<br />on past the admin building,<br />back down the hill to my beginning,<br />the driver’s second-to-last stop.<br /><a href="lappel-du-vide.html">I have to walk now</a>,<br />through the wind and sun, past<br /><a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">traffic</a> moving merrily along<br />taking their own gambles<br />staying on or getting off<br />too soon.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>It was a <a href="hard-game.html">gamble</a><br />I lost—thought I could get closer<br />than the library, stayed<br />on past the admin building,<br />back down the hill to my beginning,<br />the driver’s second-to-last stop.<br /><a href="lappel-du-vide.html">I have to walk now</a>,<br />through the wind and sun, past<br /><a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">traffic</a> moving merrily along<br />taking their own gambles<br />staying on or getting off<br />too soon.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/stump.html b/stump.html
index 4df9457..1e2e648 100644
--- a/stump.html
+++ b/stump.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Stump | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="stump" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Stump</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He walked into the woods for the first time in months. It was a bright summer day but under the canopy of leaves it was cool and quiet and twilight. <a href="music-433.html">There was no sound but his footsteps, his breathing.</a> Instead of an axe, his right hand clutched his notebook. His left was in his pocket. A pencil perched behind his ear.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>He walked aimlessly until coming over a short rise he saw a stump. He recognized his handiwork in the way the stump made a kind of chair back—flat until the axe had gone through far enough, then a frayed edge like a torn page. Paul walked over to the stump and sat down.</p>
+            <p>He walked into the woods for the first time in months. It was a bright summer day but under the canopy of leaves it was cool and quiet and twilight. <a href="music-433.html">There was no sound but his footsteps, his breathing.</a> Instead of an axe, his right hand clutched his notebook. His left was in his pocket. A pencil perched behind his ear.</p>
-<p>He looked up and tried to find a pattern in the placement of the trees. There was none. They grew randomly, beginning nowhere and ending in the same place. <a href="squirrel.html">A squirrel</a> ran down one and up another for no reason. He opened his notebook and took his pencil from his ear but could think of nothing to write.</p>
+            <p>He walked aimlessly until coming over a short rise he saw a stump. He recognized his handiwork in the way the stump made a kind of chair back—flat until the axe had gone through far enough, then a frayed edge like a torn page. Paul walked over to the stump and sat down.</p>
-<p>A crow called hoarsely to another, something important. Paul looked up but could not see the black bird in the <a href="death-zone.html">leaves of the trees</a>. He looked back down to the cream-colored pages of his notebook.</p>
+            <p>He looked up and tried to find a pattern in the placement of the trees. There was none. They grew randomly, beginning nowhere and ending in the same place. <a href="squirrel.html">A squirrel</a> ran down one and up another for no reason. He opened his notebook and took his pencil from his ear but could think of nothing to write.</p>
-<p>He was surprised that he’d written <em>YOU CANNOT DISCOVER ART</em>.</p></section>
+            <p>A crow called hoarsely to another, something important. Paul looked up but could not see the black bird in the <a href="death-zone.html">leaves of the trees</a>. He looked back down to the cream-colored pages of his notebook.</p>
+            <p>He was surprised that he’d written <em>YOU CANNOT DISCOVER ART</em>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="joke.html"
diff --git a/style.css b/style.css
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14f8b88
--- /dev/null
+++ b/style.css

@@ -0,0 +1,491 @@
+/* CSS for Autocento at the breakfast table
+ * Case Duckworth | autocento.me
+ * vim: fdm=marker
+ */
+/* COMMON CSS */
+/* @IMPORTS {{{ */
+/* Playfair Display: headings */
+@import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display:400,700,400italic,700italic&subset=latin,latin-ext);
+/* Linux Libertine: body text */
+@import url(fonts/libertine.css);
+/* Courier New: typewriter text */
+@import url(fonts/courier-prime.css);
+/* @imports }}} */
+/* MAIN LAYOUT ELEMENTS {{{ */
+/* HTML + BODY {{{ */
+html, body {
+    margin: 0;
+    padding: 0;
+    font-family: "Libertine", Georgia, serif;
+    font-size: 100%;
+}
+html {
+    height: 100%;
+}
+body {
+    position: absolute;
+    top: 0;
+    left: 0;
+    right: 0;
+    min-height: 100%;
+    padding-left: 1em;
+    padding-right: 1em;
+}
+/* html + body }}} */
+/* HEADER + .CONTAINER + .CONTENT {{{ */
+header {
+    max-width: 39em;
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+    border-bottom: 1px solid black;
+    padding: 1em 0;
+    margin-bottom: 1em;
+    position: relative;
+}
+.container {
+    margin: 0 auto;
+    padding-bottom: 30px;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+.content {
+    line-height: 1.3em;
+}
+/* header + .container + .content }}} */
+/* NAV + .FOOTNOTES {{{ */
+nav {
+    height: 24px;
+    width: 100%;
+    position: absolute;
+    bottom: 0;
+    left: 0;
+    text-align: center;
+    overflow: hidden;
+}
+.footnotes {
+    font-size: 0.85em;
+    width: 100%;
+    position: absolute;
+    top: 100%;
+    left: 0;
+}
+/* nav + .footnotes }}} */
+/* main layout elements }}} */
+/* HEADER ELEMENTS {{{ */
+/* .TITLE + .SUBTITLE {{{ */
+.title {
+    text-align: left;
+    display: inline-block;
+    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
+    font-size: 1.5em;
+    font-weight: 400;
+    letter-spacing: 0.1em;
+    text-transform: uppercase;
+    margin: 0;
+}
+.subtitle {
+    text-align: center;
+    display: block;
+    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
+    font-size: 1.25em;
+    font-style: italic;
+    font-weight: 400;
+    margin-top: 0;
+    margin-bottom: 0;
+}
+/* .title + .subtitle }}} */
+/* .HEADER-EXTRA {{{ */
+.header-extra {
+    text-align: right;
+}
+.dedication,.epigraph {
+    vertical-align: bottom;
+    display: inline-block;
+    margin-left: 2%;
+    margin-right: 2%;
+    width: 45%;
+}
+/* DEDICATION {{{ */
+.dedication {
+    font-style: italic;
+    font-size: 0.92em;
+    margin-top: 1em;
+}
+.dedication::before {
+    content: 'for ';
+    font-style: italic;
+}
+.dedication:only-child {
+    text-align: right;
+}
+/* dedication }}} */
+/* EPIGRAPH {{{ */
+.epigraph {
+    text-align: right;
+    font-size: 0.92em;
+    font-style: italic;
+    margin-top: 1em;
+}
+.epigraph p {
+    margin: 0;
+}
+.epigraph .attrib {
+    text-align: right;
+    margin-top: 0;
+    font-size: 0.92em;
+    font-style: normal;
+}
+.epigraph .attrib::before {
+    content: '– ';
+}
+/* epigraph }}} */
+/* header-extra }}} */
+/* header elements }}} */
+/* .EKPHRASTIC {{{ */
+.ekphrastic {
+    max-width: 41em;
+    /* margin-top: -1em; */
+    margin-bottom: 1em;
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+.ekphrastic a:link { border: none; }
+/* .ekphrastic }}} */
+/* .CONTENT ELEMENTS {{{ */
+/* BLOCK ELEMENTS {{{ */
+.content :first-child {
+    margin-top: 0;
+}
+h2 {
+    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
+    font-size: 1em;
+    font-weight: 600;
+}
+blockquote {
+    border-left: 1px solid gray;
+    padding-left: 2em;
+    margin-left: 2em;
+    font-style: italic;
+}
+img {
+    max-width: 100%;
+    margin: auto;
+}
+/* block elements }}} */
+/* LINKS {{{ */
+a:link {
+    padding-top: 1px;
+    color: inherit;
+    text-decoration: none;
+    border-bottom: 1px dotted black;
+}
+a:visited {
+    color: inherit;
+}
+a:hover {
+    /* text-decoration: underline; */
+    border-bottom: 1px solid black;
+}
+a:active {
+    /* text-decoration: underline; */
+    border-bottom: 1px solid black;
+}
+/* External Links */
+a[href^="http"]:link {
+    text-decoration: none;
+    border-bottom: 1px dotted #a1a3a1;
+}
+a[href^="http"]:visited {
+}
+a[href^="http"]:hover {
+    border-bottom: 1px dashed black;
+}
+a[href^="http"]:active {
+    border-bottom: 1px dashed black;
+}
+/* links }}} */
+/* .content elements }}} */
+/* NAV ELEMENTS {{{ */
+nav a:link { border-bottom: none; }
+nav a:active { border: none; }
+nav .prevlink { float: left; text-align: left; }
+nav .nextlink { float: right; text-align: right; }
+/* Properties both types of navlinks share */
+nav .prevlink, nav .nextlink {
+    margin: 0 0.5em;
+    width: 20%;
+    display: block;
+    font-size: 0.85em;
+    font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, serif;
+    font-style: italic;
+    text-transform: lowercase;
+    height: 20px;
+    text-decoration: none;
+    position: relative;
+    display: table;
+    vertical-align: top;
+}
+nav .prevlink::before {
+    content: ' «';
+    font-style: normal;
+    display: table-cell;
+    vertical-align: top;
+    text-align: left;
+    padding-left: 0.5em;
+    padding-right: 0.5em;
+}
+nav .nextlink::after {
+    content: ' »';
+    font-style: normal;
+    display: table-cell;
+    vertical-align: top;
+    text-align: right;
+    padding-left: 0.5em;
+    padding-right: 0.5em;
+}
+#lozenge {
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 50%;
+    text-decoration: none;
+}
+/* nav elements }}} */
+/* .FOOTNOTES ELEMENTS {{{ */
+.footnotes li {
+    margin-right: 2em;
+    border-bottom: 1px solid gray;
+    max-width: 45em;
+    margin: auto;
+}
+.footnotes li:last-child {
+    border-bottom: none;
+}
+.footnotes p::first-line {
+    font-variant: normal !important;
+}
+.footnotes a[href^="#fnref"] {
+    float: right;
+}
+a.footnoteRef {
+    border: none;
+}
+/* .footnotes elements }}} */
+/* GENRE CSS */
+/* .PROSE {{{ */
+.prose {
+    display: inline-block;
+    text-align: justify;
+    max-width: 39em;
+    margin: auto;
+    hyphens: auto;
+    -moz-hyphens: auto;
+}
+.prose p::first-child::first-line {
+    font-variant: small-caps;
+    letter-spacing: 0.1em;
+}
+/* .prose }}} */
+/* .VERSE {{{ */
+.verse {
+    display: inline-block;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+/* .verse }}} */
+/* PROJECT CSS */
+/* #COVER {{{ */
+/* Flexboxing {{{ */
+#cover {
+    position: absolute;
+    top: 0;
+    bottom: 0;
+    left: 0;
+    right: 0;
+    display: -webkit-box;
+    display: -moz-box;
+    display: -ms-flexbox;
+    display: -webkit-flex;
+    display: flex;
+    -webkit-box-direction: normal;
+    -moz-box-direction: normal;
+    -webkit-box-orient: vertical;
+    -moz-box-orient: vertical;
+    -webkit-flex-direction: column;
+    -ms-flex-direction: column;
+    flex-direction: column;
+    -webkit-flex-wrap: nowrap;
+    -ms-flex-wrap: nowrap;
+    flex-wrap: nowrap;
+    -webkit-box-pack: center;
+    -moz-box-pack: center;
+    -webkit-justify-content: center;
+    -ms-flex-pack: center;
+    justify-content: center;
+    -webkit-align-content: center;
+    -ms-flex-line-pack: center;
+    align-content: center;
+    -webkit-box-align: center;
+    -moz-box-align: center;
+    -webkit-align-items: center;
+    -ms-flex-align: center;
+    align-items: center;
+    }
+#cover .title {
+    -webkit-box-ordinal-group: 1;
+    -moz-box-ordinal-group: 1;
+    -webkit-order: 0;
+    -ms-flex-order: 0;
+    order: 0;
+    -webkit-box-flex: 0;
+    -moz-box-flex: 0;
+    -webkit-flex: 0 1 auto;
+    -ms-flex: 0 1 auto;
+    flex: 0 1 auto;
+    -webkit-align-self: auto;
+    -ms-flex-item-align: auto;
+    align-self: auto;
+}
+#cover .byline {
+    -webkit-box-ordinal-group: 1;
+    -moz-box-ordinal-group: 1;
+    -webkit-order: 0;
+    -ms-flex-order: 0;
+    order: 0;
+    -webkit-box-flex: 0;
+    -moz-box-flex: 0;
+    -webkit-flex: 0 1 auto;
+    -ms-flex: 0 1 auto;
+    flex: 0 1 auto;
+    -webkit-align-self: auto;
+    -ms-flex-item-align: auto;
+    align-self: auto;
+}
+#cover .lozenge {
+    -webkit-box-ordinal-group: 1;
+    -moz-box-ordinal-group: 1;
+    -webkit-order: 0;
+    -ms-flex-order: 0;
+    order: 0;
+    -webkit-box-flex: 0;
+    -moz-box-flex: 0;
+    -webkit-flex: 0 1 auto;
+    -ms-flex: 0 1 auto;
+    flex: 0 1 auto;
+    -webkit-align-self: auto;
+    -ms-flex-item-align: auto;
+    align-self: auto;
+}
+/* }}} */
+#cover {
+    color: #b2d9e5;
+    background-image: url('img/black-streak.jpg');
+    background-position: 0 0;
+    background-size: 100% 100%;
+    background-repeat: no-repeat;
+    background-attachment: fixed;
+    background-clip: border-box;
+    background-color: black;
+}
+#cover header {
+    border: none;
+}
+#cover .content {
+    max-width: 39em;
+    margin: auto;
+}
+#cover a {
+    text-decoration: none;
+    border: none;
+}
+#cover a:link {
+    color: #b2d9e5;
+}
+#cover a:visited {
+    color: #b2b2e5;
+}
+#cover a:hover {
+    color: #e5bfb2;
+}
+#cover a:active {
+    color: #e5e5b2;
+}
+#cover li {
+    list-style: none;
+}
+#cover .title {
+    text-transform: uppercase;
+    text-align: center;
+    font-size: 1.8em;
+    letter-spacing: 0.5em;
+    color: #efefb2;
+}
+#cover .byline {
+    font-style: italic;
+    text-align: center;
+    font-size: 1.3em;
+    letter-spacing: 0.2em;
+    color: #e5bfb2;
+}
+#cover .lozenge {
+    text-align: center;
+    font-size: 1em;
+    color: #e5bfb2;
+}
+/* #cover }}} */
+/* .ELEGIES {{{ */
+.elegies {
+}
+/* .elegies }}} */
+/* .HEZEKIAH {{{ */
+/* .hezekiah }}} */
+/* .STARK {{{ */
+/* TODO: Change to Everything Changes? */
+table { border-collapse: collapse; }
+td {
+    vertical-align: top;
+}
+tr {
+    border-bottom: 1px solid #aaa;
+    border-top: 1px solid #aaa;
+}
+/* .stark }}} */
+/* .PAUL {{{ */
+/* Blockquote = typewriter */
+.paul blockquote {
+    font-family: "Courier Prime", "Courier New", Courier, monospace;
+    font-style: normal;
+    font-size: 10pt;
+    border: 1px solid black;
+    max-width: 30em;
+    margin: auto;
+    padding: 1em;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+.paul blockquote :last-child {
+    margin: 0;
+}
+.paul blockquote p::first-line {
+    font-variant: normal !important;
+}
+.paul blockquote ul {
+    list-style-type: none;
+}
+.paul blockquote ul li::before {
+    content: '- ';
+}
+/* Emphasis = handwritten */
+.paul em {
+    /* font-family: "Playfair Display", Georgia, sans-serif; */
+    font-style: italic;
+}
+/* .paul }}} */
+/* .AUTOCENTO {{{ */
+.autocento {
+    background-image: url('img/white-streak.jpg');
+    background-position: 0 0;
+    background-size: 100% 100%;
+    background-repeat: no-repeat;
+    background-attachment: fixed;
+    background-clip: border-box;
+    background-color: white;
+}
+/* .autocento }}} */
diff --git a/swansong-alt.html b/swansong-alt.html
index 67855e0..03c4785 100644
--- a/swansong-alt.html
+++ b/swansong-alt.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Swansong | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="swansong-alt" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Swansong</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>This poem is dry like <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">chapped lips</a>.<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">It is hard as teeth</a>—hear the tapping?<br />It is the swan song of beauty, as all<br />swan songs are. <a href="poetry-time.html">Reading</a> it, you are<br />puzzled, perhaps a little repulsed.<br />Swans do not have teeth, nor do they sing.<br />A honking over the cliff is all<br />they can do, and that they do<br />badly. You don’t know where I’m going.<br />You want to tell me, <a href="about-the-author.html">You are not you</a>.<br /><a href="swansong.html">You are the air the swan walks on.</a><br />You are the fringe of the curtain<br /><a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">that separates me from you</a>. I say<br />that you are no longer the temple,<br />that you have been through <a href="fire.html">fire</a><br />and are now less than ash. You are<br />the subtraction of yourself from<br />the world, <a href="finding-the-lion.html">the air without a swan</a>.<br />Together, we are each other. You<br />and I have both nothing and everything<br />at once, we own the world and nothing in it.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>This poem is dry like <a href="time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html">chapped lips</a>.<br /><a href="no-nothing.html">It is hard as teeth</a>—hear the tapping?<br />It is the swan song of beauty, as all<br />swan songs are. <a href="poetry-time.html">Reading</a> it, you are<br />puzzled, perhaps a little repulsed.<br />Swans do not have teeth, nor do they sing.<br />A honking over the cliff is all<br />they can do, and that they do<br />badly. You don’t know where I’m going.<br />You want to tell me, <a href="about-the-author.html">You are not you</a>.<br /><a href="swansong.html">You are the air the swan walks on.</a><br />You are the fringe of the curtain<br /><a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">that separates me from you</a>. I say<br />that you are no longer the temple,<br />that you have been through <a href="fire.html">fire</a><br />and are now less than ash. You are<br />the subtraction of yourself from<br />the world, <a href="finding-the-lion.html">the air without a swan</a>.<br />Together, we are each other. You<br />and I have both nothing and everything<br />at once, we own the world and nothing in it.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/swansong.html b/swansong.html
index 1bc0b33..a00993f 100644
--- a/swansong.html
+++ b/swansong.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Swan song | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="swansong" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Swan song</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Swans fly overhead singing goodbye<br />to we <a href="howithappened.html">walkers of the earth</a>. You point<br />to them in formation, you tell me<br />you are not you. <a href="swansong-alt.html">You are the air the swans<br />walk on</a> as they journey like pilgrims<br />to a temple in the south. A curtain<br />there separates me from you, swans<br />from the air they fly through. I say<br />that you are no longer the temple,<br />that you have been through fire<br />and are now less than ash. You are<br />a <a href="moongone.html">mirror</a> of me, the <a href="deathstrumpet.html">air without a swan</a>.<br />Together, we are each other. You<br />and I have both nothing and everything<br />at once. We own the world and nothing in it.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>Swans fly overhead singing goodbye<br />to we <a href="howithappened.html">walkers of the earth</a>. You point<br />to them in formation, you tell me<br />you are not you. <a href="swansong-alt.html">You are the air the swans<br />walk on</a> as they journey like pilgrims<br />to a temple in the south. A curtain<br />there separates me from you, swans<br />from the air they fly through. I say<br />that you are no longer the temple,<br />that you have been through fire<br />and are now less than ash. You are<br />a <a href="moongone.html">mirror</a> of me, the <a href="deathstrumpet.html">air without a swan</a>.<br />Together, we are each other. You<br />and I have both nothing and everything<br />at once. We own the world and nothing in it.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="squirrel.html"
diff --git a/swear.html b/swear.html
index f1df0ab..d4125a8 100644
--- a/swear.html
+++ b/swear.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Swear | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="swear" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Swear</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><blockquote>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><a href="planks.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME</a></p>
+            <blockquote>
-<p>First, a history: I was writing my thoughts in a book. I got a typewriter and typing things in a book became impossible. I began typing on 4x6 notecards. I ran out of ribbon in my typewriter. I wrote on the 4x6 notecards. I bought a new ribbon and new notecards. Now again I am typing on notecards.</p>
+            <p><a href="planks.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME</a></p>
-<p>What have I been typing? Thoughts, impressions maybe, a log of changes to my mental state. I waited long enough and I began recording them in the same way. If I wait longer the ribbon will run out again and I’ll write again, on notecards or in my book. The same thoughts in different bodies.</p>
+            <p>First, a history: I was writing my thoughts in a book. I got a typewriter and typing things in a book became impossible. I began typing on 4x6 notecards. I ran out of ribbon in my typewriter. I wrote on the 4x6 notecards. I bought a new ribbon and new notecards. Now again I am typing on notecards.</p>
-<p>That’s what it means, “Every thing changes or everything stays the same.” It might as well be “and.” Local differences add up to global identities. It’s a <a href="ourobors_memory.html">hoop</a>, right? And we keep going around and we think it’s flat but it’s round like the Earth.</p>
+            <p>What have I been typing? Thoughts, impressions maybe, a log of changes to my mental state. I waited long enough and I began recording them in the same way. If I wait longer the ribbon will run out again and I’ll write again, on notecards or in my book. The same thoughts in different bodies.</p>
-</blockquote>
+            <p>That’s what it means, “Every thing changes or everything stays the same.” It might as well be “and.” Local differences add up to global identities. It’s a <a href="ourobors_memory.html">hoop</a>, right? And we keep going around and we think it’s flat but it’s round like the Earth.</p>
-<p>Paul pushed his chair away from the <a href="finding-the-lion.html">Writing Desk</a> and stared at the notecard. He stood up, knocked his head on the lightbulb, swore. He pulled the notecard from his typewriter and crumpled it up with his left hand. With his right hand he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He put one in his mouth, threw the paper in the corner, grabbed his axe, went out into the woods.</p></section>
+            </blockquote>
+            <p>Paul pushed his chair away from the <a href="finding-the-lion.html">Writing Desk</a> and stared at the notecard. He stood up, knocked his head on the lightbulb, swore. He pulled the notecard from his typewriter and crumpled it up with his left hand. With his right hand he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He put one in his mouth, threw the paper in the corner, grabbed his axe, went out into the woods.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="reports.html"
diff --git a/table_contents.html b/table_contents.html
index 8021529..d889467 100644
--- a/table_contents.html
+++ b/table_contents.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Table of contents | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/stark.css">
-    <script src="./js/stark.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="table_contents" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Table of contents</h1>
@@ -45,82 +41,84 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><table>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<col style="width: 53%" /><col style="width: 46%" /><tbody>
+            <table>
-<tr class="odd">
+            <col style="width: 53%" /><col style="width: 46%" /><tbody>
-<td style="text-align: left;">4. <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">The look she gave me</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">4. Half-hours in heaven are three times <a href="telemarketer.html">that in hell</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">4. <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">The look she gave me</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">4. Half-hours in heaven are three times <a href="telemarketer.html">that in hell</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">5. <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">Not out of anger</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">5. <a href="no-nothing.html">Pay the toll</a>, mister, or nothing can get done</td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">5. <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">Not out of anger</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">5. <a href="no-nothing.html">Pay the toll</a>, mister, or nothing can get done</td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">6. <a href="boy_bus.html">A desire to understand</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">6. <a href="howithappened.html">Misattributed</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">6. <a href="boy_bus.html">A desire to understand</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">6. <a href="howithappened.html">Misattributed</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">7. <a href="i-think-its-you.html">Seven syllables amble</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">7. <a href="howtoread.html">Disassociated</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">7. <a href="i-think-its-you.html">Seven syllables amble</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">7. <a href="howtoread.html">Disassociated</a></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">8. <a href="initial-conditions.html">To drink at the pond</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">8. <a href="cereal.html">Advice from a cereal box</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">8. <a href="initial-conditions.html">To drink at the pond</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">8. <a href="cereal.html">Advice from a cereal box</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">9. <a href="love-as-god.html">Two fall in and drown</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">9. <a href="call-me-aural-pleasure.html">The challenges of</a> a modern life</td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">9. <a href="love-as-god.html">Two fall in and drown</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">9. <a href="call-me-aural-pleasure.html">The challenges of</a> a modern life</td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">10. <a href="worse-looking-over.html">Odd-numbered ponies</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">10. Probability and the American <a href="in-bed.html">Dream</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">10. <a href="worse-looking-over.html">Odd-numbered ponies</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">10. Probability and the American <a href="in-bed.html">Dream</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">11. <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">Buck and Whinny in the moonlight</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">11. <a href="deadman.html">Two friends throw dice</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">11. <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">Buck and Whinny in the moonlight</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">11. <a href="deadman.html">Two friends throw dice</a></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">12. <a href="last-bastion.html">To die tomorrow</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">12. <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Fears of death</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">12. <a href="last-bastion.html">To die tomorrow</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">12. <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Fears of death</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">13. <a href="amber-alert.html">To be everywhere</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">13. The <a href="boar.html">solipsist talks to God</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">13. <a href="amber-alert.html">To be everywhere</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">13. The <a href="boar.html">solipsist talks to God</a></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">14. <a href="exasperated.html">All at one time: my motto</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">14. <a href="phone.html">A phone conversation</a> following receipt of an ill-timed love letter</td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">14. <a href="exasperated.html">All at one time: my motto</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">14. <a href="phone.html">A phone conversation</a> following receipt of an ill-timed love letter</td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">15. <a href="death-zone.html">Of a perfect world</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">15. Woody Allen at <a href="100-lines.html">the horse races</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">15. <a href="death-zone.html">Of a perfect world</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">15. Woody Allen at <a href="100-lines.html">the horse races</a></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">16. <a href="big-dipper.html">This morning the sun</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">16. Whether you say <a href="big-dipper.html">good morning</a> or good night</td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">16. <a href="big-dipper.html">This morning the sun</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">16. Whether you say <a href="big-dipper.html">good morning</a> or good night</td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">17. <a href="poetry-time.html">Wandering through the window</a></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">17. A traveler <a href="mountain.html">waiting on the mountain</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">17. <a href="poetry-time.html">Wandering through the window</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">17. A traveler <a href="mountain.html">waiting on the mountain</a></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;">18. <a href="moon-drowning.html">Alights on my shoulder</a></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">18. The impenetrable object falls in <a href="lovesong.html">love</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">18. <a href="moon-drowning.html">Alights on my shoulder</a></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">18. The impenetrable object falls in <a href="lovesong.html">love</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;"></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">1. <a href="music-433.html">Liquid messenger</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;"></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">1. <a href="music-433.html">Liquid messenger</a></td>
-<tr class="odd">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;"></td>
+            <tr class="odd">
-<td style="text-align: left;">2. <a href="riptide_memory.html">After a gate closes, dogs bark</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;"></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">2. <a href="riptide_memory.html">After a gate closes, dogs bark</a></td>
-<tr class="even">
+            </tr>
-<td style="text-align: left;"></td>
+            <tr class="even">
-<td style="text-align: left;">3. <a href="about-the-author.html">Finding old men at dusk</a></td>
+            <td style="text-align: left;"></td>
-</tr>
+            <td style="text-align: left;">3. <a href="about-the-author.html">Finding old men at dusk</a></td>
-</tbody>
+            </tr>
-</table></section>
+            </tbody>
+            </table>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/tapestry.html b/tapestry.html
index f0b5f11..955adc3 100644
--- a/tapestry.html
+++ b/tapestry.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Tapestry | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="tapestry" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Tapestry</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em>Apparently typewriters need ribbon. Apparently ribbon is incredibly hard to find anymore because no one uses typewriters. Apparently I am writing my hymns from now on.</em> So he was back to calling his notes “hymns.” He looked up “hymns” in the dictionary. It said that a hymn was “an ode or song of praise or adoration.” Praise or adoration to what? he asked himself. He thought maybe furniture. There was still a lot of notfurniture in what he was again calling his Writing Shack.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>The dictionary also had this to say about “hymn”: that it was possibly related to the old Greek word for “<a href="likingthings.html">weave</a>.” “<a href="roughgloves.html">Weave what</a>” Paul wondered to himself. He wrote this down on a new notecard. <em>Apparently “hymn” means weave somehow. Or it used to. Or its cousin did. What is it weaving? Who is it weaving for? I remember in school we talked about Odysseus and his wife Penelope, who wove a tapestry every day just to take it apart at night. I forget why.</em></p>
+            <p><em>Apparently typewriters need ribbon. Apparently ribbon is incredibly hard to find anymore because no one uses typewriters. Apparently I am writing my hymns from now on.</em> So he was back to calling his notes “hymns.” He looked up “hymns” in the dictionary. It said that a hymn was “an ode or song of praise or adoration.” Praise or adoration to what? he asked himself. He thought maybe furniture. There was still a lot of notfurniture in what he was again calling his Writing Shack.</p>
-<p><em>Maybe she wove the tapestry for Odysseus. Maybe she wove it for herself. What did she weave it of? <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">Memory</a>, maybe? <a href="in-bed.html">Or dream</a>? I think these words make a kind of tapestry, or at least the thread it will be made of. I will weave a hymn to the gods of Literature, out of fiction. My furniture was a try at weaving, but I am shit at furniture. So writing it is again.</em></p>
+            <p>The dictionary also had this to say about “hymn”: that it was possibly related to the old Greek word for “<a href="likingthings.html">weave</a>.” “<a href="roughgloves.html">Weave what</a>” Paul wondered to himself. He wrote this down on a new notecard. <em>Apparently “hymn” means weave somehow. Or it used to. Or its cousin did. What is it weaving? Who is it weaving for? I remember in school we talked about Odysseus and his wife Penelope, who wove a tapestry every day just to take it apart at night. I forget why.</em></p>
-<p>He wrote <em><strong>NOTES FOR A HYMN</strong></em> at the top of this notecard.</p></section>
+            <p><em>Maybe she wove the tapestry for Odysseus. Maybe she wove it for herself. What did she weave it of? <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">Memory</a>, maybe? <a href="in-bed.html">Or dream</a>? I think these words make a kind of tapestry, or at least the thread it will be made of. I will weave a hymn to the gods of Literature, out of fiction. My furniture was a try at weaving, but I am shit at furniture. So writing it is again.</em></p>
+            <p>He wrote <em><strong>NOTES FOR A HYMN</strong></em> at the top of this notecard.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="phone.html"
diff --git a/telemarketer.html b/telemarketer.html
index b03d27c..7a6fd6e 100644
--- a/telemarketer.html
+++ b/telemarketer.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Telemarketer | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="telemarketer" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Telemarketer</h1>
@@ -40,17 +36,19 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>It was one of those nameless gray buildings that could be seen from the street only if Larry craned his neck to almost vertical. He never had, of course, having heard when he first arrived in the city that only tourists unaccustomed to tall buildings did so. He’d never thought about it until he’d heard the social injunction against such a thing; it was now one of the things he thought about almost every day as he rode to and from work in gritty blue buses.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Inside the building, the constant sound of recirculating dry air made Larry feel as though he were at some beach in hell, listening to the <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">ocean</a>, or more accurately at a gift shop in a landlocked state in hell listening to the ocean as represented by the sound a conch shell makes when he holds it up to his ear. The buzz of the fluorescent bulbs overhead sounded like the hot sun bearing down all day in this metaphor, a favorite of Larry’s.</p>
+            <p>It was one of those nameless gray buildings that could be seen from the street only if Larry craned his neck to almost vertical. He never had, of course, having heard when he first arrived in the city that only tourists unaccustomed to tall buildings did so. He’d never thought about it until he’d heard the social injunction against such a thing; it was now one of the things he thought about almost every day as he rode to and from work in gritty blue buses.</p>
-<p>His cubicle was made of that cheap, grayish-blue plywood that cubicles are made of; inside it, his computer sat on his desk as Larry liked to think an <a href="mountain.html">eagle perched</a> on a mountainous crag much like the crag that was his desktop wallpaper. The walls were unadorned except for a few tacked-up papers in <a href="reports.html">report</a> covers explaining his script. When Larry made a call to a potential customer it always went the same way:</p>
+            <p>Inside the building, the constant sound of recirculating dry air made Larry feel as though he were at some beach in hell, listening to the <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">ocean</a>, or more accurately at a gift shop in a landlocked state in hell listening to the ocean as represented by the sound a conch shell makes when he holds it up to his ear. The buzz of the fluorescent bulbs overhead sounded like the hot sun bearing down all day in this metaphor, a favorite of Larry’s.</p>
-<p>“Hi, Mr/Mrs (customer’s name). My name is Larry and I’m with (client’s name), and was just wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”</p>
+            <p>His cubicle was made of that cheap, grayish-blue plywood that cubicles are made of; inside it, his computer sat on his desk as Larry liked to think an <a href="mountain.html">eagle perched</a> on a mountainous crag much like the crag that was his desktop wallpaper. The walls were unadorned except for a few tacked-up papers in <a href="reports.html">report</a> covers explaining his script. When Larry made a call to a potential customer it always went the same way:</p>
-<p>“Oh, no, sir; I don’t want whatever it is you’re selling.” (customer terminates call).</p>
+            <p>“Hi, Mr/Mrs (customer’s name). My name is Larry and I’m with (client’s name), and was just wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”</p>
-<p>Larry had only ever read the first line of the script on the wall. Sometimes he had an urge to read more of it, to be ready when a customer expressed interest in whatever it was Larry was selling, but something in him—he liked to think it was an actor’s intuition that told him it was best to improvise, though he worried it was the futility of it—kept him from reading further into the script. So when Jane said, “Sure, I have nothing better to do,” he was thrown completely off guard.</p>
+            <p>“Oh, no, sir; I don’t want whatever it is you’re selling.” (customer terminates call).</p>
-<p>“Um, alright Mrs … Mrs. Loring, I was wondering—”</p>
+            <p>Larry had only ever read the first line of the script on the wall. Sometimes he had an urge to read more of it, to be ready when a customer expressed interest in whatever it was Larry was selling, but something in him—he liked to think it was an actor’s intuition that told him it was best to improvise, though he worried it was the futility of it—kept him from reading further into the script. So when Jane said, “Sure, I have nothing better to do,” he was thrown completely off guard.</p>
-<p>“It’s Ms, not Mrs. Em ess. Miz. No ‘r,’ Larry.” She sounded patient, as if she were used to correcting people about the particulars of her title. But how often can that happen? Larry thought, and he was suddenly deeply confused.</p>
+            <p>“Um, alright Mrs … Mrs. Loring, I was wondering—”</p>
-<p>“Oh, sorry, ma’am, uh, Miz Loring, but I wanted to know whether you’d like to, ah, buy some…” Larry put his head in his hand and started twirling his hair in his finger, a nervous habit he’d had since childhood, and closed his eyes tightly. “Why don’t you have anything better to do?”</p>
+            <p>“It’s Ms, not Mrs. Em ess. Miz. No ‘r,’ Larry.” She sounded patient, as if she were used to correcting people about the particulars of her title. But how often can that happen? Larry thought, and he was suddenly deeply confused.</p>
-<p>Immediately he knew it was the wrong question. Even before the silence on the other end moved past impatience and into stunned, Larry had a mini-drama written and staged within his mind: she would call customer service and complain loudly into the representative’s ear. The rep would send a memo to the head of telemarketing requesting disciplinary action, and the head would delegate the action to Larry’s immediate supervisor, David. David would saunter over to Larry’s cubicle sometime within the next week, depending on when he got the memo and when he felt like crossing fifty feet of office space, and have one of what David liked to call “chats” but what Larry knew were lectures. After about half an hour of “chatting” David would give Larry a warning and ask him to come in for overtime to make up for the discretion, and walk back slowly to his office, making small talk with the cubicled workers on the way. The world suddenly felt too small for Larry, or he too big for it.</p>
+            <p>“Oh, sorry, ma’am, uh, Miz Loring, but I wanted to know whether you’d like to, ah, buy some…” Larry put his head in his hand and started twirling his hair in his finger, a nervous habit he’d had since childhood, and closed his eyes tightly. “Why don’t you have anything better to do?”</p>
-<p>Quietly, with the same patience but with a <a href="arspoetica.html">bigger pain</a>, Jane said, “My husband just left me and I thought you could take my mind off of him for just a minute,” and hung up.</p></section>
+            <p>Immediately he knew it was the wrong question. Even before the silence on the other end moved past impatience and into stunned, Larry had a mini-drama written and staged within his mind: she would call customer service and complain loudly into the representative’s ear. The rep would send a memo to the head of telemarketing requesting disciplinary action, and the head would delegate the action to Larry’s immediate supervisor, David. David would saunter over to Larry’s cubicle sometime within the next week, depending on when he got the memo and when he felt like crossing fifty feet of office space, and have one of what David liked to call “chats” but what Larry knew were lectures. After about half an hour of “chatting” David would give Larry a warning and ask him to come in for overtime to make up for the discretion, and walk back slowly to his office, making small talk with the cubicled workers on the way. The world suddenly felt too small for Larry, or he too big for it.</p>
+            <p>Quietly, with the same patience but with a <a href="arspoetica.html">bigger pain</a>, Jane said, “My husband just left me and I thought you could take my mind off of him for just a minute,” and hung up.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="swansong.html"
diff --git a/the-night-we-met.html b/the-night-we-met.html
index 3863b75..800d5d5 100644
--- a/the-night-we-met.html
+++ b/the-night-we-met.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The night we met, I was out of my mind | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="the-night-we-met" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The night we met, I was out of my mind</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>My head is <a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">full of fire</a>, my tongue swollen,<br />pregnant with all the things I should’ve said<br />but didn’t. Last night, we met each other<br />in the dark, remember? You told me time was</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>pregnant with all things. I should’ve said<br />something, to draw you out from your place<br />in the dark. Remember, you told me time was<br />only an illusion, <a href="riptide_memory.html">and memory was</a> only</p>
+            <p>My head is <a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">full of fire</a>, my tongue swollen,<br />pregnant with all the things I should’ve said<br />but didn’t. Last night, we met each other<br />in the dark, remember? You told me time was</p>
-<p>something to draw. You, out from your place,<br />I out from mine, that night, I believed in you.<br />Only illusion and memory were one, lying<br /><a href="early.html">down on your couch</a>, through the night you drew</p>
+            <p>pregnant with all things. I should’ve said<br />something, to draw you out from your place<br />in the dark. Remember, you told me time was<br />only an illusion, <a href="riptide_memory.html">and memory was</a> only</p>
-<p>me out from mine. That night, I believed in you<br />when you told me you loved me. I lay<br />down on your couch. Through the night, you drew<br />a picture of our <a href="100-lines.html">future together</a>.</p>
+            <p>something to draw. You, out from your place,<br />I out from mine, that night, I believed in you.<br />Only illusion and memory were one, lying<br /><a href="early.html">down on your couch</a>, through the night you drew</p>
-<p>When you told me you loved me, I lied<br /><a href="apollo11.html">in the dark</a>. Remember, you told me time was<br /><a href="last-passenger.html">a picture of our future</a> together.<br />My head is full of fire, <a href="plant.html">my tongue swollen</a>.</p></section>
+            <p>me out from mine. That night, I believed in you<br />when you told me you loved me. I lay<br />down on your couch. Through the night, you drew<br />a picture of our <a href="100-lines.html">future together</a>.</p>
+            <p>When you told me you loved me, I lied<br /><a href="apollo11.html">in the dark</a>. Remember, you told me time was<br /><a href="last-passenger.html">a picture of our future</a> together.<br />My head is full of fire, <a href="plant.html">my tongue swollen</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/the-sea_the-beach.html b/the-sea_the-beach.html
index a8926c7..5e38dcc 100644
--- a/the-sea_the-beach.html
+++ b/the-sea_the-beach.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The sea and the beach | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="the-sea_the-beach" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The sea and the beach</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Waiting for a reading to start<br />when there’s nobody coming anyway<br />is like waiting <a href="cold-wind.html">for the tide</a><br />to make some meaning of the beach.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>The sea doesn’t know or care<br />what the beach even is, let alone<br />its cares or its troubles, its<br />little nagging under-the-skin annoyances<br /><a href="real-writer.html">that make the beach the beach</a>.</p>
+            <p>Waiting for a reading to start<br />when there’s nobody coming anyway<br />is like waiting <a href="cold-wind.html">for the tide</a><br />to make some meaning of the beach.</p>
-<p>Sandworms, for example, or those crabs<br />with big pincers on one side<br />but not the other. Those really get<br />the beach’s gander up, but the sea<br />doesn’t care. The sea</p>
+            <p>The sea doesn’t know or care<br />what the beach even is, let alone<br />its cares or its troubles, its<br />little nagging under-the-skin annoyances<br /><a href="real-writer.html">that make the beach the beach</a>.</p>
-<p>only wants to <a href="plant.html">caress</a> the beach<br />with its <a href="something-simple.html">soft arms</a>, to tell the beach<br />how much it’s loved by the sea,<br />that complex of water, salt, and<br />the moon’s gravity, the mercury<br />rising up and down slowly, like a <a href="serengeti.html">yawn</a>.</p>
+            <p>Sandworms, for example, or those crabs<br />with big pincers on one side<br />but not the other. Those really get<br />the beach’s gander up, but the sea<br />doesn’t care. The sea</p>
-<p>The sea only cares about itself.<br />The beach lays there and takes it.</p></section>
+            <p>only wants to <a href="plant.html">caress</a> the beach<br />with its <a href="something-simple.html">soft arms</a>, to tell the beach<br />how much it’s loved by the sea,<br />that complex of water, salt, and<br />the moon’s gravity, the mercury<br />rising up and down slowly, like a <a href="serengeti.html">yawn</a>.</p>
+            <p>The sea only cares about itself.<br />The beach lays there and takes it.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html b/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html
index 6ea2b64..1285ab9 100644
--- a/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html
+++ b/theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>The ocean overflows with camels | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="theoceanoverflowswithcamels" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">The ocean overflows with camels</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>We found your <a href="lovesong.html">shirt</a> deep in the dark water,<br />caught on the clothesline of sleeping pills.<br />Your head on the shore was streaming tears<br />like sleeves or the coronas of saints saved<br />from fire. The burning bush began crying<br />like a child who misses his mother. Traffic<br />slammed shut like an eye. God’s mean <a href="roughgloves.html">left hook</a><br />knocked us out, and we began swimming.<br />Bruises bloomed like algae on a lake.<br />Your <a href="angeltoabraham.html">father</a> beat your chest and screamed<br />for someone to open a window. The air<br />stopped breathing. Fish clogged its gills.<br />Birds sang too loudly, trying to drown out<br />your father’s cries, but all their sweetness<br />was not enough. No polite noises will be made<br />anymore, he told us, clawing your breastbone.<br />He opened your heart to air again. Camels<br />flowed from you both like water from the rock.<br />God spoke up, but nobody listened to him.<br />We hung you up on the line to dry.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>We found your <a href="lovesong.html">shirt</a> deep in the dark water,<br />caught on the clothesline of sleeping pills.<br />Your head on the shore was streaming tears<br />like sleeves or the coronas of saints saved<br />from fire. The burning bush began crying<br />like a child who misses his mother. Traffic<br />slammed shut like an eye. God’s mean <a href="roughgloves.html">left hook</a><br />knocked us out, and we began swimming.<br />Bruises bloomed like algae on a lake.<br />Your <a href="angeltoabraham.html">father</a> beat your chest and screamed<br />for someone to open a window. The air<br />stopped breathing. Fish clogged its gills.<br />Birds sang too loudly, trying to drown out<br />your father’s cries, but all their sweetness<br />was not enough. No polite noises will be made<br />anymore, he told us, clawing your breastbone.<br />He opened your heart to air again. Camels<br />flowed from you both like water from the rock.<br />God spoke up, but nobody listened to him.<br />We hung you up on the line to dry.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="arspoetica.html"
diff --git a/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html b/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html
index 6c6ebca..5e9f578 100644
--- a/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html
+++ b/time-looks-up-to-the-sky.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Time looks up to the sky | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="time-looks-up-to-the-sky" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Time looks up to the sky</h1>
@@ -40,12 +36,14 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I wish I’d kissed you when I had the chance.<br />Your face hovering there, so near to mine,<br />your mouth pursed—what word was it you pronounced?</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>When I think about you, <a href="howithappened.html">something in my pants</a><br />tightens, and my thoughts run, and I realize<br />I should’ve kissed you when I had the chance.</p>
+            <p>I wish I’d kissed you when I had the chance.<br />Your face hovering there, so near to mine,<br />your mouth pursed—what word was it you pronounced?</p>
-<p>I want that moment never to be past<br />like Keats’s lovers on the grecian urn:<br />his mouth pursed, her figure turned to pronounce</p>
+            <p>When I think about you, <a href="howithappened.html">something in my pants</a><br />tightens, and my thoughts run, and I realize<br />I should’ve kissed you when I had the chance.</p>
-<p>her hips in ways that are not feminist.<br />But time strolls mildly on, not glancing at my<br />wish to kiss you when I had the chance,</p>
+            <p>I want that moment never to be past<br />like Keats’s lovers on the grecian urn:<br />his mouth pursed, her figure turned to pronounce</p>
-<p>whispered like a <a href="about-the-author.html">beggar to a prince</a><br />outside his palace: time looks up to the sky,<br />purses his lips, and hears what I pronounce</p>
+            <p>her hips in ways that are not feminist.<br />But time strolls mildly on, not glancing at my<br />wish to kiss you when I had the chance,</p>
-<p>but pays it little mind. If he would just<br />turn back, bend down, and follow my design,<br />I would have kissed you when I had the chance,<br />as your mouth pursed and you pronounced goodbye.</p></section>
+            <p>whispered like a <a href="about-the-author.html">beggar to a prince</a><br />outside his palace: time looks up to the sky,<br />purses his lips, and hears what I pronounce</p>
+            <p>but pays it little mind. If he would just<br />turn back, bend down, and follow my design,<br />I would have kissed you when I had the chance,<br />as your mouth pursed and you pronounced goodbye.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/todaniel.html b/todaniel.html
index b2cb756..83bbaa3 100644
--- a/todaniel.html
+++ b/todaniel.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>To Daniel | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="todaniel" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">To Daniel</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>There are more modern ideals of beauty<br />than yours, young padowan. Jessica has<br />some assets, that I’ll give you easily,<br />but in my women I prefer pizzazz.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>I don’t want to bring you down, or make you think<br /><a href="deathstrumpet.html">that your perfected woman isn’t so</a>.<br />It’s just that, like Adam said, 2006<br />has come and gone. What did she do</p>
+            <p>There are more modern ideals of beauty<br />than yours, young padowan. Jessica has<br />some assets, that I’ll give you easily,<br />but in my women I prefer pizzazz.</p>
-<p>in that year anyway? IMDB<br />has, surprisingly, none, though in ’05<br />she’s in four titles. <em>Sin City</em><br />I’ve never seen, although from many I’ve</p>
+            <p>I don’t want to bring you down, or make you think<br /><a href="deathstrumpet.html">that your perfected woman isn’t so</a>.<br />It’s just that, like Adam said, 2006<br />has come and gone. What did she do</p>
-<p>heard it’s good. But it’s still irrelevant—<br />no matter how comely, she lacks talent.</p></section>
+            <p>in that year anyway? IMDB<br />has, surprisingly, none, though in ’05<br />she’s in four titles. <em>Sin City</em><br />I’ve never seen, although from many I’ve</p>
+            <p>heard it’s good. But it’s still irrelevant—<br />no matter how comely, she lacks talent.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="weplayedthosegamestoo.html"
diff --git a/toilet.html b/toilet.html
index c71c21a..280a4e1 100644
--- a/toilet.html
+++ b/toilet.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Toilet | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="toilet" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Toilet</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Paul only did his reading on the toilet.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>He read in a magazine that the universe as we know it is actually a hologram, a three-dimensional projection of a lower, two-dimensional, “realer” reality. The article said that this model explains things like quantum entanglement, what it called “spooky action at a distance.”</p>
+            <p>Paul only did his reading on the toilet.</p>
-<p>After he finished, he ran back out to his Writing Shack and hammered out a Treatise on Literature as Spooky Action. His mind was reeling. He typed out an entire <a href="treatise.html">notecard</a> on the subject.</p>
+            <p>He read in a magazine that the universe as we know it is actually a hologram, a three-dimensional projection of a lower, two-dimensional, “realer” reality. The article said that this model explains things like quantum entanglement, what it called “spooky action at a distance.”</p>
-<p>He stopped to catch his breath. Reading it over, he realized he was completely wrong. “Paper is made from trees” he thought “and so is furniture.” He had thought that ART and CRAFT were two separate enterprises but he realized in a flash that they were two sides of the same building. Were there other walls?</p></section>
+            <p>After he finished, he ran back out to his Writing Shack and hammered out a Treatise on Literature as Spooky Action. His mind was reeling. He typed out an entire <a href="treatise.html">notecard</a> on the subject.</p>
+            <p>He stopped to catch his breath. Reading it over, he realized he was completely wrong. “Paper is made from trees” he thought “and so is furniture.” He had thought that ART and CRAFT were two separate enterprises but he realized in a flash that they were two sides of the same building. Were there other walls?</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="hands.html"
diff --git a/toothpaste.html b/toothpaste.html
index 26b8fc2..c75d09b 100644
--- a/toothpaste.html
+++ b/toothpaste.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Toothpaste | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="toothpaste" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Toothpaste</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He couldn’t <a href="no-nothing.html">find a shirt</a> to go to work in. They all had stains on them somewhere. He pulled out a vest to put on over the stains but somehow all of them were still visible. Most of them were unidentifiable but one he thought could have come from <a href="http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html">that peach</a> he ate two weeks before. Another looked like toothpaste but he was paranoid it was something else.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>When he took the bus into work he couldn’t relax. He was paranoid everyone was staring at his stain and kept looking out the corners of his eyes to make sure they weren’t. They didn’t seem to be but they could also be looking away just as he looked at them. “The <a href="problems.html">Observation</a> Paradox” he muttered to himself.</p>
+            <p>He couldn’t <a href="no-nothing.html">find a shirt</a> to go to work in. They all had stains on them somewhere. He pulled out a vest to put on over the stains but somehow all of them were still visible. Most of them were unidentifiable but one he thought could have come from <a href="http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html">that peach</a> he ate two weeks before. Another looked like toothpaste but he was paranoid it was something else.</p>
-<p>Jill was the only one to notice the stain at work. She came around to his cubicle during a break because he dared not show his stain in the break room. “You have a stain on your shoulder” she said “it looks like toothpaste.” “Do I” he feigned ignorance but <a href="statements-frag.html">went red</a> at the same time “I didn’t see that there this morning.” “How do you get toothpaste on your shoulder?” “I don’t know skills I guess” he said and she grinned. “You know vinegar will take that out” she said “although I think I like it. You should start a museum of shirt stains!” “I don’t have that many shirts with stains” he said frowning. “Yes you do” she said.</p></section>
+            <p>When he took the bus into work he couldn’t relax. He was paranoid everyone was staring at his stain and kept looking out the corners of his eyes to make sure they weren’t. They didn’t seem to be but they could also be looking away just as he looked at them. “The <a href="problems.html">Observation</a> Paradox” he muttered to himself.</p>
+            <p>Jill was the only one to notice the stain at work. She came around to his cubicle during a break because he dared not show his stain in the break room. “You have a stain on your shoulder” she said “it looks like toothpaste.” “Do I” he feigned ignorance but <a href="statements-frag.html">went red</a> at the same time “I didn’t see that there this morning.” “How do you get toothpaste on your shoulder?” “I don’t know skills I guess” he said and she grinned. “You know vinegar will take that out” she said “although I think I like it. You should start a museum of shirt stains!” “I don’t have that many shirts with stains” he said frowning. “Yes you do” she said.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="early.html"
diff --git a/treatise.html b/treatise.html
index 1ec61f3..1495a02 100644
--- a/treatise.html
+++ b/treatise.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Treatise | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="treatise" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Treatise</h1>
@@ -40,13 +36,15 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><blockquote>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>TREATISE ON LITERATURE AS “SPOOKY ACTION FROM A DISTANCE”</p>
+            <blockquote>
-<p>There is this thing called “spooky action at a distance.” Einstein mentioned it first I believe. It is about how two electrons can act like they are right next to each other although they are very far away (lightyears even). For a long time this puzzled scientists until someone (not Einstein) figured out that maybe the universe is a hologram or projection. So what appears to be very far apart in the hologram might actually be very close in the substrate reality.</p>
+            <p>TREATISE ON LITERATURE AS “SPOOKY ACTION FROM A DISTANCE”</p>
-<p>I want to talk about this effect in literature. In literature the writer writes words on a substrate (paper) and later the reader reads the same words off the substrate. Although the writer and reader might be very far apart from each other in time and space, they experience the same effect from reading the words. Even the writer reading his own words after he has written them becomes a reader and feels who he was at that time, <a href="howtoread.html">like a ghost</a>.</p>
+            <p>There is this thing called “spooky action at a distance.” Einstein mentioned it first I believe. It is about how two electrons can act like they are right next to each other although they are very far away (lightyears even). For a long time this puzzled scientists until someone (not Einstein) figured out that maybe the universe is a hologram or projection. So what appears to be very far apart in the hologram might actually be very close in the substrate reality.</p>
-<p>PROBLEMS:</p>
+            <p>I want to talk about this effect in literature. In literature the writer writes words on a substrate (paper) and later the reader reads the same words off the substrate. Although the writer and reader might be very far apart from each other in time and space, they experience the same effect from reading the words. Even the writer reading his own words after he has written them becomes a reader and feels who he was at that time, <a href="howtoread.html">like a ghost</a>.</p>
-<p>Maybe the substrate isn’t paper it’s what the writing is about. <a href="toilet.html">Where is the hologram</a>? Are physics and literature comparable? What if the universe isn’t a hologram what then?</p>
+            <p>PROBLEMS:</p>
-</blockquote></section>
+            <p>Maybe the substrate isn’t paper it’s what the writing is about. <a href="toilet.html">Where is the hologram</a>? Are physics and literature comparable? What if the universe isn’t a hologram what then?</p>
+            </blockquote>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="hardware.html"
diff --git a/underwear.html b/underwear.html
index 9fc390f..aeb75ec 100644
--- a/underwear.html
+++ b/underwear.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Underwear | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
    </head>
-<body>
+<body id="underwear" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Underwear</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He dropped the penny in the dryer, turned it on, and turned around. “What” he called upstairs, pretending not to hear his mother’s <a href="exasperated.html">question</a> over the noise of the dryer. He had heard her ask “Could you bring up my underwear from the dryer” but didn’t want to touch her underwear any more than he had to. “I don’t want to bring up your underwear” he said to himself, and walked back upstairs as his mother was calling down again for her underwear.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>“Did you get them” she asked when he opened the basement door to the kitchen. She was sitting at the table playing <a href="phone.html">dominoes</a>. “Get what” he asked. She peered at him and said “my underwear.”</p>
+            <p>He dropped the penny in the dryer, turned it on, and turned around. “What” he called upstairs, pretending not to hear his mother’s <a href="exasperated.html">question</a> over the noise of the dryer. He had heard her ask “Could you bring up my underwear from the dryer” but didn’t want to touch her underwear any more than he had to. “I don’t want to bring up your underwear” he said to himself, and walked back upstairs as his mother was calling down again for her underwear.</p>
-<p>“Oh I didn’t see them” he answered. He reflexively opened the refrigerator, reflexively bent down, reflexively tried to feign non-disappointment (appointment? he thought) at seeing the same disappointing empty pickle jar, old head of lettuce, <a href="riptide_memory.html">crusty mayonnaise</a> he’d seen already on the way down to switch his laundry over. “Paul” she said in that way that means <a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">Look at me</a>. Paul <a href="angeltoabraham.html">looked at her</a>.</p>
+            <p>“Did you get them” she asked when he opened the basement door to the kitchen. She was sitting at the table playing <a href="phone.html">dominoes</a>. “Get what” he asked. She peered at him and said “my underwear.”</p>
-<p>“You had to get them out of the dryer to put your clothes in. Where did you put them?”</p></section>
+            <p>“Oh I didn’t see them” he answered. He reflexively opened the refrigerator, reflexively bent down, reflexively tried to feign non-disappointment (appointment? he thought) at seeing the same disappointing empty pickle jar, old head of lettuce, <a href="riptide_memory.html">crusty mayonnaise</a> he’d seen already on the way down to switch his laundry over. “Paul” she said in that way that means <a href="found-typewriter-poem.html">Look at me</a>. Paul <a href="angeltoabraham.html">looked at her</a>.</p>
+            <p>“You had to get them out of the dryer to put your clothes in. Where did you put them?”</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="hymnal.html"
diff --git a/walking-in-the-rain.html b/walking-in-the-rain.html
index dd224da..67969a0 100644
--- a/walking-in-the-rain.html
+++ b/walking-in-the-rain.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Walking in the rain | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
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-<body>
+<body id="walking-in-the-rain" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Walking in the rain</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I can walk through the rain, <a href="collage-instrument.html">that rare occurrence</a><br />and never be hit by a drop. There is a space around me<br />that refuses to be <a href="lovesong.html">penetrated</a> by weather of any kind<br />be it rain or snow or sunshine. <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Is it cold I hear you</a><br />asking in your voice soft as a breeze. No it is not<br /><a href="cold-wind.html">particularly cold</a>. If I were to describe it as warm<br /><a href="todaniel.html">I would be lying as well</a>. If I were to pretend I heard<br />you, far-off, mirage, breeze on the horizon, <a href="no-nothing.html">no truth</a><br />would ever be said to have come from <a href="swansong-alt.html">my frozen lips</a>.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>I can walk through the rain, <a href="collage-instrument.html">that rare occurrence</a><br />and never be hit by a drop. There is a space around me<br />that refuses to be <a href="lovesong.html">penetrated</a> by weather of any kind<br />be it rain or snow or sunshine. <a href="seasonal-affective-disorder.html">Is it cold I hear you</a><br />asking in your voice soft as a breeze. No it is not<br /><a href="cold-wind.html">particularly cold</a>. If I were to describe it as warm<br /><a href="todaniel.html">I would be lying as well</a>. If I were to pretend I heard<br />you, far-off, mirage, breeze on the horizon, <a href="no-nothing.html">no truth</a><br />would ever be said to have come from <a href="swansong-alt.html">my frozen lips</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/wallpaper.html b/wallpaper.html
index c2a9c9e..4a65144 100644
--- a/wallpaper.html
+++ b/wallpaper.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Wallpaper | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="wallpaper" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Wallpaper</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He didn’t go back into the shed for a long time. His hatchet was in there, and his axe. He didn’t want to face them. His papers, he decided, could wait in the top drawer for a while before being looked at again. The pain medication made him loopy. He couldn’t think as well as he was used to, which wasn’t well to begin with. Even saying his thoughts out loud, it was as though they were on the <a href="statements-frag.html">TV in the next room</a>. Someone was cheering. They had just won a car.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>His mother came in with lunch on a tray. It was hot tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. “What have you been doing all day” she asked “you haven’t just been staring at the wall have you?” He had been staring at the wall most of the day. <a href="in-bed.html">The wall without the window on it, with the woodgrain wallpaper.</a> “No” he said. “What have you been doing then” she asked setting the tray down on his lap. He sat up and almost upset it, but she caught it before it spilled anything. “Composing in my head” he lied. “A novel of my experience.”</p>
+            <p>He didn’t go back into the shed for a long time. His hatchet was in there, and his axe. He didn’t want to face them. His papers, he decided, could wait in the top drawer for a while before being looked at again. The pain medication made him loopy. He couldn’t think as well as he was used to, which wasn’t well to begin with. Even saying his thoughts out loud, it was as though they were on the <a href="statements-frag.html">TV in the next room</a>. Someone was cheering. They had just won a car.</p>
-<p>“<a href="http://www.confederacyofdunces.com/">Do you really think anyone will want to read about you</a>” she asked and walked out of the room.</p></section>
+            <p>His mother came in with lunch on a tray. It was hot tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. “What have you been doing all day” she asked “you haven’t just been staring at the wall have you?” He had been staring at the wall most of the day. <a href="in-bed.html">The wall without the window on it, with the woodgrain wallpaper.</a> “No” he said. “What have you been doing then” she asked setting the tray down on his lap. He sat up and almost upset it, but she caught it before it spilled anything. “Composing in my head” he lied. “A novel of my experience.”</p>
+            <p>“<a href="http://www.confederacyofdunces.com/">Do you really think anyone will want to read about you</a>” she asked and walked out of the room.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="x-ray.html"
diff --git a/weplayedthosegamestoo.html b/weplayedthosegamestoo.html
index 5cff616..d5a67f8 100644
--- a/weplayedthosegamestoo.html
+++ b/weplayedthosegamestoo.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>We played those games too | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/elegies.css">
-    <script src="./js/elegies.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="weplayedthosegamestoo" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">We played those games too</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>I saw two Eskimo girls playing a game<br />blowing on each other’s’ vocal chords to make music<br />on the tundra. I thought about how<br />once we played the same game<br />and the sounds blowing over the chords of our throats<br />was the same as a wind over frozen prairie.<br />We are the Eskimo girls who played<br />the game that night to keep ourselves warm.<br />I run my hands over <a href="and.html">my daughter</a>’s<br />voicebox as she hums a song<br />about a seal and about killing the seal and about<br />skinning it and rendering the blubber<br />into clear oil to light lamps.<br />I remember you are my lamp. She remembers<br />you although you left before she arrived.<br />I can never tell her about you.<br />I will never be able to express that taste of your oil<br />as we <a href="spittle.html">pushed our throats together</a>.<br />I will never be able to say how<br />we share this blemish like conjoined twins.<br />I will fail you always to remember you.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p>I saw two Eskimo girls playing a game<br />blowing on each other’s’ vocal chords to make music<br />on the tundra. I thought about how<br />once we played the same game<br />and the sounds blowing over the chords of our throats<br />was the same as a wind over frozen prairie.<br />We are the Eskimo girls who played<br />the game that night to keep ourselves warm.<br />I run my hands over <a href="and.html">my daughter</a>’s<br />voicebox as she hums a song<br />about a seal and about killing the seal and about<br />skinning it and rendering the blubber<br />into clear oil to light lamps.<br />I remember you are my lamp. She remembers<br />you although you left before she arrived.<br />I can never tell her about you.<br />I will never be able to express that taste of your oil<br />as we <a href="spittle.html">pushed our throats together</a>.<br />I will never be able to say how<br />we share this blemish like conjoined twins.<br />I will fail you always to remember you.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="telemarketer.html"
diff --git a/what-we-are-made-of.html b/what-we-are-made-of.html
index 56e86be..4bfced5 100644
--- a/what-we-are-made-of.html
+++ b/what-we-are-made-of.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>What we are made of | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/autocento.css">
-    <script src="./js/autocento.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="what-we-are-made-of" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">What we are made of</h1>
@@ -40,18 +36,20 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>There is a cave just outside of Flagstaff made from ancient lava flows. We went inside it to where the darkness was a presence, it walked with us like a Christ, our footsteps fell dead on its walls. We learned what space felt like, and drowning, and being crushed, and going blind and deaf. We made up words to push the feeling away, to goad it like mockingbirds fighting hawks. We called it creepy to its face. It stared back dispassionate.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>In a bathroom I know there is a low thrumming that comes from the air ducts in the ceiling. It comforts me in the same way the smell of toilet-water calms my stomach, it is a sound so close to quiet, so close to the porcelain whiteness of the toilet, it pushes all other noise away. It is deafening quiet in its most real form, its most realizable form.</p>
+            <p>There is a cave just outside of Flagstaff made from ancient lava flows. We went inside it to where the darkness was a presence, it walked with us like a Christ, our footsteps fell dead on its walls. We learned what space felt like, and drowning, and being crushed, and going blind and deaf. We made up words to push the feeling away, to goad it like mockingbirds fighting hawks. We called it creepy to its face. It stared back dispassionate.</p>
-<p>The eggs on the floor, broken. Not the eggs in their journey to the floor or from the farm or from the hen on the farm, in the cage, glowing under fluorescent lights, its neighbors pressed to its body, rotten-smelling, grotesque. Not the fateful meeting with the floor. Not the long wait in darkness for the fluorescent dawn, cacophonous with pain and smell. None of this: the sunlight on the kitchen tile, the refrigerator softly humming, the eggs on the floor. The yolks glistening.</p>
+            <p>In a bathroom I know there is a low thrumming that comes from the air ducts in the ceiling. It comforts me in the same way the smell of toilet-water calms my stomach, it is a sound so close to quiet, so close to the porcelain whiteness of the toilet, it pushes all other noise away. It is deafening quiet in its most real form, its most realizable form.</p>
-<p>I compose with music best. Under its meaninglessness <a href="music-433.html">I am able to hear the silence</a>, a different meaninglessness, a somehow-deeper meaninglessness, the inverse of repeating a word until it is only sound. I can hear the taboo, the never-spoken, unacknowledged. I write to drown its sound, with the scratching of my pen.</p>
+            <p>The eggs on the floor, broken. Not the eggs in their journey to the floor or from the farm or from the hen on the farm, in the cage, glowing under fluorescent lights, its neighbors pressed to its body, rotten-smelling, grotesque. Not the fateful meeting with the floor. Not the long wait in darkness for the fluorescent dawn, cacophonous with pain and smell. None of this: the sunlight on the kitchen tile, the refrigerator softly humming, the eggs on the floor. The yolks glistening.</p>
-<p>Silence lies underneath us all in the same way<br />the Nile has a river underneath ten times as large<br />(though this is an urban legend, apparently)<br /> I threw a party in my dream and went to the bathroom, down a long dark hallway. I began to leave and noticed the bathtub full of stuffed animals in a heap. I examined them each in turn: an elephant, a tiger, each backgrounded by white tile. A warthog sat at the top of the heap. It caught my eye, I stared, it slowly winked, sneering. I reached out my finger and poked it, like the Pillsbury Doughboy. It responded in kind, chuckling. I woke with a start, terrified. It had made no sound.</p>
+            <p>I compose with music best. Under its meaninglessness <a href="music-433.html">I am able to hear the silence</a>, a different meaninglessness, a somehow-deeper meaninglessness, the inverse of repeating a word until it is only sound. I can hear the taboo, the never-spoken, unacknowledged. I write to drown its sound, with the scratching of my pen.</p>
-<p>There are at least two kinds of silence, in the same way that there are at least two kinds of sadness. There is the silence of after, the staring, open-mouthed silence, the what-do-we-do-now silence. There is the silence of before, the still before rainfall, the just-woken-up.</p>
+            <p>Silence lies underneath us all in the same way<br />the Nile has a river underneath ten times as large<br />(though this is an urban legend, apparently)<br /> I threw a party in my dream and went to the bathroom, down a long dark hallway. I began to leave and noticed the bathtub full of stuffed animals in a heap. I examined them each in turn: an elephant, a tiger, each backgrounded by white tile. A warthog sat at the top of the heap. It caught my eye, I stared, it slowly winked, sneering. I reached out my finger and poked it, like the Pillsbury Doughboy. It responded in kind, chuckling. I woke with a start, terrified. It had made no sound.</p>
-<p>There is, now I’m thinking about it, the silence of between: the waiting room after the heart attack, after the phone call, after the hurried drive, the fast walking down hospital hallways, the finding the room, my family, their faces the silence of after, the TV quietly playing <em>Maurie</em>, the silence underneath that; the waiting room <em>before</em> the doctor comes in, tells us what happened, the chances, before my parents drive down, their three long hours in the car, before we become the Hospital People for five days, camped-out, loud, cackling, crying, doing crosswords, watching her die.</p>
+            <p>There are at least two kinds of silence, in the same way that there are at least two kinds of sadness. There is the silence of after, the staring, open-mouthed silence, the what-do-we-do-now silence. There is the silence of before, the still before rainfall, the just-woken-up.</p>
-<p>The silence of wondering whether we could’ve known each other better.</p>
+            <p>There is, now I’m thinking about it, the silence of between: the waiting room after the heart attack, after the phone call, after the hurried drive, the fast walking down hospital hallways, the finding the room, my family, their faces the silence of after, the TV quietly playing <em>Maurie</em>, the silence underneath that; the waiting room <em>before</em> the doctor comes in, tells us what happened, the chances, before my parents drive down, their three long hours in the car, before we become the Hospital People for five days, camped-out, loud, cackling, crying, doing crosswords, watching her die.</p>
-<p>The silence of the long trip we prefer to believe she’s gone on, which is really the silence of her absence.</p>
+            <p>The silence of wondering whether we could’ve known each other better.</p>
-<p>The eggs on the floor, broken.</p>
+            <p>The silence of the long trip we prefer to believe she’s gone on, which is really the silence of her absence.</p>
-<p>In other dreams, all I’ve watched all of my family dying. My father I remember best: he was on the wicker rocking chair on the porch, staring at the back yard, the evergreen trees in a magic triangle, their branches intertwined. We were all on the porch, and I heard like a far-away bell the moment of his death. I woke up crying, my throat closed with grief.</p>
+            <p>The eggs on the floor, broken.</p>
-<p>Leaving after the goodbye at the hotel, <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">realizing I won’t be home</a> until Christmas, that I’m on my own long trip, someone on the radio station I’m listening to in the car screws up transferring tapes, broadcasts dead air. The silence yawns like a chasm, lasting for years. <a href="riptide_memory.html">The wind picks me up and carries me away</a>, I see everything from a great height, I see the future. I’m waiting.</p></section>
+            <p>In other dreams, all I’ve watched all of my family dying. My father I remember best: he was on the wicker rocking chair on the porch, staring at the back yard, the evergreen trees in a magic triangle, their branches intertwined. We were all on the porch, and I heard like a far-away bell the moment of his death. I woke up crying, my throat closed with grief.</p>
+            <p>Leaving after the goodbye at the hotel, <a href="lappel-du-vide.html">realizing I won’t be home</a> until Christmas, that I’m on my own long trip, someone on the radio station I’m listening to in the car screws up transferring tapes, broadcasts dead air. The silence yawns like a chasm, lasting for years. <a href="riptide_memory.html">The wind picks me up and carries me away</a>, I see everything from a great height, I see the future. I’m waiting.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/when-im-sorry-i.html b/when-im-sorry-i.html
index 873eef5..728855a 100644
--- a/when-im-sorry-i.html
+++ b/when-im-sorry-i.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>When I’m sorry I wash dishes | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/verse.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/verse.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="when-im-sorry-i" class="autocento">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">When I’m sorry I wash dishes</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p>Your casserole dish takes the longest:<br />it has some baked-in crust from when you<br />cooked chicken last night. Washing it<br />allows me to think about this poem’s title<br />and the first few lines. Now that I’ve<br />written them down, I’ve <a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">forgotten the rest</a>.</p>
+        <section class="content verse">
-<p>While scraping at something with my finger-<br />nail, I catch myself wondering again whether<br />you’ll thank me for washing your dishes.<br />I realize that this would defeat the point<br />of my gesture, that this has destroyed<br />all good thoughts I’ve had about saying</p>
+            <p>Your casserole dish takes the longest:<br />it has some baked-in crust from when you<br />cooked chicken last night. Washing it<br />allows me to think about this poem’s title<br />and the first few lines. Now that I’ve<br />written them down, I’ve <a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">forgotten the rest</a>.</p>
-<p>“I’m sorry.” This, <a href="http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1703/">this is the reason</a> why<br />I am always apologizing: because I never<br />mean it, because there is always, in <a href="real-writer.html">some<br />attic</a>, a thought roaming that says, insists:<br /> “I’ve done nothing wrong, and I deserve<br />all I can take, and more than that.”</p></section>
+            <p>While scraping at something with my finger-<br />nail, I catch myself wondering again whether<br />you’ll thank me for washing your dishes.<br />I realize that this would defeat the point<br />of my gesture, that this has destroyed<br />all good thoughts I’ve had about saying</p>
+            <p>“I’m sorry.” This, <a href="http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1703/">this is the reason</a> why<br />I am always apologizing: because I never<br />mean it, because there is always, in <a href="real-writer.html">some<br />attic</a>, a thought roaming that says, insists:<br /> “I’ve done nothing wrong, and I deserve<br />all I can take, and more than that.”</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/window.html b/window.html
index 58afb0f..619dbe3 100644
--- a/window.html
+++ b/window.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Window | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="window" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Window</h1>
@@ -40,10 +36,12 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p><em><strong><a href="hymnal.html">HYMN 386: JOKES</a></strong></em></p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p><em>“<a href="joke.html">Tell us a joke</a>” everyone asks of the clown. He sits on a log and begins to think. Everyone waits gap-mouthed in anticipation. A slight breeze ruffles the clown’s coat, his pompom buttons, <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">his bright red hair</a>. His nose becomes redder in the cold. Hours pass. All but the most dedicated of joke listeners leave him to rot <del>for all they may care</del>.</em></p>
+            <p><em><strong><a href="hymnal.html">HYMN 386: JOKES</a></strong></em></p>
-<p><em>The clown opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. A tear falls down his cheek, and another. He begins to sob. The last joke listener comes over to comfort him. She puts a hand on his shoulder. He looks up at her, red face, red nose, white lips, and says <del>“Thank you.”</del> He vanishes from the clearing. The last joke listener sits on the log and looks up at the sky. <a href="moon-drowning.html">The moon is full.</a> The world creaks on its axis.</em></p>
+            <p><em>“<a href="joke.html">Tell us a joke</a>” everyone asks of the clown. He sits on a log and begins to think. Everyone waits gap-mouthed in anticipation. A slight breeze ruffles the clown’s coat, his pompom buttons, <a href="ronaldmcdonald.html">his bright red hair</a>. His nose becomes redder in the cold. Hours pass. All but the most dedicated of joke listeners leave him to rot <del>for all they may care</del>.</em></p>
-<p>Paul looked up to the space on the wall where a window should be. The shadow of his face wavered in the candle light. He looked back down at the card he’d been writing on. He read the card. He crossed out the <em>for all they may care</em> in the first paragraph, and <em>“Thank you”</em> from the second one. “<a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">What could he say</a>” he thought to himself. “What could he possibly say to her.” He went outside to clear his head with a cigarette. He took his axe with him this time.</p></section>
+            <p><em>The clown opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. A tear falls down his cheek, and another. He begins to sob. The last joke listener comes over to comfort him. She puts a hand on his shoulder. He looks up at her, red face, red nose, white lips, and says <del>“Thank you.”</del> He vanishes from the clearing. The last joke listener sits on the log and looks up at the sky. <a href="moon-drowning.html">The moon is full.</a> The world creaks on its axis.</em></p>
+            <p>Paul looked up to the space on the wall where a window should be. The shadow of his face wavered in the candle light. He looked back down at the card he’d been writing on. He read the card. He crossed out the <em>for all they may care</em> in the first paragraph, and <em>“Thank you”</em> from the second one. “<a href="elegyforanalternateself.html">What could he say</a>” he thought to himself. “What could he possibly say to her.” He went outside to clear his head with a cigarette. He took his axe with him this time.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="tapestry.html"
diff --git a/words-irritable-reaching.html b/words-irritable-reaching.html
index 100c601..85d9ab6 100644
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Words and their irritable reaching | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
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        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Words and their irritable reaching</h1>
@@ -40,15 +36,17 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>Somewhere I remember reading advice for beginning writers not to show their work to anyone, at least that in the early stages. The author argued that it took all of the power out of the idea, like a pressure-release valve, before any of that creative power got to be applied to the page. It made me think of “<a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177014">Meditation at Legunitas</a>,” when Hass writes “that each particular erases / the luminous clarity of a general idea.” As a self-confessed General Idea person, I identify with the remark: it does seem as though, no matter how lofty the idea I originally have for a poem, once I sit down to write the thing I quickly get bogged down in the details, the particulars. I guess the writer of that lost article must work the same way, leading to their advice: if the “luminous clarity of a general idea” is so fragile that just beginning to write it down ruins it somehow, <em>telling</em> people about it is even worse.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>But back to that Robert Hass poem: while he does say that thing about the “luminous clarity of a general idea,” and he adds to it that “<a href="words-meaning.html">a word is elegy</a> to what it signifies,” his tone is lightly chiding this philosophy. He opens his poem with “All the new thinking is about loss. / In this it resembles all the old thinking,” which to my mind lampoons both the new and the old thinking for not having anything new, ultimately, to say. He attributes these thoughts to a friend, whose voice carried “a thin wire of grief, a tone / almost querulous” about that loss of luminous clarity. The speaker of Hass’s poem remembers a woman he made love to, once, and this image takes over the poem in all its specificity, from “her small shoulders” to his “childhood river / with its island willows,” to “the way her hands dismantled bread.”</p>
+            <p>Somewhere I remember reading advice for beginning writers not to show their work to anyone, at least that in the early stages. The author argued that it took all of the power out of the idea, like a pressure-release valve, before any of that creative power got to be applied to the page. It made me think of “<a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177014">Meditation at Legunitas</a>,” when Hass writes “that each particular erases / the luminous clarity of a general idea.” As a self-confessed General Idea person, I identify with the remark: it does seem as though, no matter how lofty the idea I originally have for a poem, once I sit down to write the thing I quickly get bogged down in the details, the particulars. I guess the writer of that lost article must work the same way, leading to their advice: if the “luminous clarity of a general idea” is so fragile that just beginning to write it down ruins it somehow, <em>telling</em> people about it is even worse.</p>
-<p>Even in disproving his friend’s remarks through his imagery, the speaker of “Meditation at Legunitas” admits that “It hardly had to do with her”—and here is the heart of what Hass is saying about poetry. A poem hardly has to do with what it’s written about, on the surface level; as Richard Hugo says it in <a href="http://ualr.edu/rmburns/RB/hugosubj.html">a famous essay</a>, a poem has a “triggering subject” and it has a “real or generated subject,” which for Hugo in “Meditation at Legunitas” is something about the way that not only general ideas, but particulars, such as the body or hands or “the thing her father said that hurt her,” which is such a beautiful generality that is somehow also a particular truth, are luminous to poetry and to life-as-lived. The philosophers can say what they want, but we experience the world bodily and particularly to ourselves.</p>
+            <p>But back to that Robert Hass poem: while he does say that thing about the “luminous clarity of a general idea,” and he adds to it that “<a href="words-meaning.html">a word is elegy</a> to what it signifies,” his tone is lightly chiding this philosophy. He opens his poem with “All the new thinking is about loss. / In this it resembles all the old thinking,” which to my mind lampoons both the new and the old thinking for not having anything new, ultimately, to say. He attributes these thoughts to a friend, whose voice carried “a thin wire of grief, a tone / almost querulous” about that loss of luminous clarity. The speaker of Hass’s poem remembers a woman he made love to, once, and this image takes over the poem in all its specificity, from “her small shoulders” to his “childhood river / with its island willows,” to “the way her hands dismantled bread.”</p>
-<p>There’s still a problem with language, however, to which Hass speaks by the end of his poem, with those repetitions of “blackberry, blackberry, blackberry,” in that, as Jack Gilbert says in his poem “<a href="http://www.smith.edu/poetrycenter/poets/theforgottendialect.html">The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart</a>,” “How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, / but frightening that it does not quite.” There is still that “<a href="http://www.mrbauld.com/negcap.html">irritable reaching</a> after fact &amp; reason” that language, as communication, requires—I think Keats would agree that he wrote about a near-unattainable ideal in his letter that only Shakespeare and maybe Coleridge and a few others could achieve, this “Negative Capability.” Gilbert furthers Keats in asserting that no matter what we write, “the words / Get it wrong,” that utterance is itself that irritable reaching.</p>
+            <p>Even in disproving his friend’s remarks through his imagery, the speaker of “Meditation at Legunitas” admits that “It hardly had to do with her”—and here is the heart of what Hass is saying about poetry. A poem hardly has to do with what it’s written about, on the surface level; as Richard Hugo says it in <a href="http://ualr.edu/rmburns/RB/hugosubj.html">a famous essay</a>, a poem has a “triggering subject” and it has a “real or generated subject,” which for Hugo in “Meditation at Legunitas” is something about the way that not only general ideas, but particulars, such as the body or hands or “the thing her father said that hurt her,” which is such a beautiful generality that is somehow also a particular truth, are luminous to poetry and to life-as-lived. The philosophers can say what they want, but we experience the world bodily and particularly to ourselves.</p>
-<p>In Gilbert’s poem, though, he does reach after something. In the second half of the poem he begins to imagine what the “mysterious Sumerian tablets” could be as poetry, instead of just “business records:”</p>
+            <p>There’s still a problem with language, however, to which Hass speaks by the end of his poem, with those repetitions of “blackberry, blackberry, blackberry,” in that, as Jack Gilbert says in his poem “<a href="http://www.smith.edu/poetrycenter/poets/theforgottendialect.html">The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart</a>,” “How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, / but frightening that it does not quite.” There is still that “<a href="http://www.mrbauld.com/negcap.html">irritable reaching</a> after fact &amp; reason” that language, as communication, requires—I think Keats would agree that he wrote about a near-unattainable ideal in his letter that only Shakespeare and maybe Coleridge and a few others could achieve, this “Negative Capability.” Gilbert furthers Keats in asserting that no matter what we write, “the words / Get it wrong,” that utterance is itself that irritable reaching.</p>
-<blockquote>
+            <p>In Gilbert’s poem, though, he does reach after something. In the second half of the poem he begins to imagine what the “mysterious Sumerian tablets” could be as poetry, instead of just “business records:”</p>
-<p>[…] My joy is the same as twelve<br />Ethiopian goats standing in the morning light.<br />O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper,<br />as grand as ripe barley under the wind’s labor.<br />Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts<br />of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred<br />pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what<br />my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this<br />desire in the dark.</p>
+            <blockquote>
-</blockquote>
+            <p>[…] My joy is the same as twelve<br />Ethiopian goats standing in the morning light.<br />O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper,<br />as grand as ripe barley under the wind’s labor.<br />Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts<br />of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred<br />pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what<br />my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this<br />desire in the dark.</p>
-<p>This is my favorite part of the poem, and I think it’s because Gilbert, like Hass, reaches for the specific in the general; he brings huge ideas like the Lord or Love or Joy into the specific images of salt, copper, or honey, or like he says at the end of his poem: “What we feel most has / no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses and birds.” This, ultimately, is what Keats was getting at, and Hugo, too: that the real subject of any poetry is not capturable in the words of the poem, but that rather a poem speaks around its subject. To be honest, all <a href="art.html">art</a> may do this. What sets a poem apart is its honesty about that fact.</p></section>
+            </blockquote>
+            <p>This is my favorite part of the poem, and I think it’s because Gilbert, like Hass, reaches for the specific in the general; he brings huge ideas like the Lord or Love or Joy into the specific images of salt, copper, or honey, or like he says at the end of his poem: “What we feel most has / no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses and birds.” This, ultimately, is what Keats was getting at, and Hugo, too: that the real subject of any poetry is not capturable in the words of the poem, but that rather a poem speaks around its subject. To be honest, all <a href="art.html">art</a> may do this. What sets a poem apart is its honesty about that fact.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
diff --git a/words-meaning.html b/words-meaning.html
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Words and meaning | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
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+<body id="words-meaning" class="elegies">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Words and meaning</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>“How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, / and frightening that it does not quite,” Jack Gilbert opens his poem “The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart.” In a similar vein, Hass’s “Meditation at Legunitas” states, “A word is elegy to what it signifies.” These poems get to the heart of language, and express the old duality of thought: by giving a word to an entity, it is both tethered and made meaningful.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>Words are the inevitable byproduct of an analytic mind. Humans are constantly classifying and reclassifying ideas, objects, animals, people, into ten thousand arbitrary categories. A favorite saying of mine is that “Everything is everything,” a tautology that I like, because it gets to the core of the human linguistic machine, and because every time I say it people think I’m being <a href="likingthings.html">disingenuous</a>. But what I mean by “everything is everything” is that there is a continuity to existence that works beyond, or rather underneath, our capacity to understand it through language. Language by definition compartmentalizes reality, sets this bit apart from that bit, sets up boundaries as to what is and is not a stone, a leaf, a door. Most of the time I think of language as limiting, as defining a thing as the <a href="i-am.html">inverse of everything</a> is not.</p>
+            <p>“How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, / and frightening that it does not quite,” Jack Gilbert opens his poem “The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart.” In a similar vein, Hass’s “Meditation at Legunitas” states, “A word is elegy to what it signifies.” These poems get to the heart of language, and express the old duality of thought: by giving a word to an entity, it is both tethered and made meaningful.</p>
-<p>In this way, “everything is everything” becomes “everything is nothing,” which is another thing I like to say and something that pisses people off. To me, infinity and zero are the same, two ways of looking at the same point on the circle—of numbers, of the universe, whatever. Maybe it’s because I wear an analogue watch, and so my view of time is cyclical, or maybe it’s some brain trauma I had in vitro, but whatever it is that’s how I see the world, because I’m working against the limitations that language sets upon us. I think that’s the role of the poet, or of any artist: to take the over-expansive experience of existing and to boil it down, boil and boil away until there is the ultimate concentrate at the center that is what the poem talks around, at, etc., but never of, because it is ultimately made of language and cannot get to it. A poem is getting as close as possible to the speed of light, to absolute zero, to God, while knowing that it can’t get all the way there, and never will. A poem is doing this and coming back and showing what happened as it happened. Exegesis is hard because a really good poem will be just that, it will be the most basic and best way to say what it’s saying, so attempts to say the same thing differently will fail. A poem is a kernel of existence. It is a description of the kernel. <a href="arspoetica.html">It is</a>.</p></section>
+            <p>Words are the inevitable byproduct of an analytic mind. Humans are constantly classifying and reclassifying ideas, objects, animals, people, into ten thousand arbitrary categories. A favorite saying of mine is that “Everything is everything,” a tautology that I like, because it gets to the core of the human linguistic machine, and because every time I say it people think I’m being <a href="likingthings.html">disingenuous</a>. But what I mean by “everything is everything” is that there is a continuity to existence that works beyond, or rather underneath, our capacity to understand it through language. Language by definition compartmentalizes reality, sets this bit apart from that bit, sets up boundaries as to what is and is not a stone, a leaf, a door. Most of the time I think of language as limiting, as defining a thing as the <a href="i-am.html">inverse of everything</a> is not.</p>
+            <p>In this way, “everything is everything” becomes “everything is nothing,” which is another thing I like to say and something that pisses people off. To me, infinity and zero are the same, two ways of looking at the same point on the circle—of numbers, of the universe, whatever. Maybe it’s because I wear an analogue watch, and so my view of time is cyclical, or maybe it’s some brain trauma I had in vitro, but whatever it is that’s how I see the world, because I’m working against the limitations that language sets upon us. I think that’s the role of the poet, or of any artist: to take the over-expansive experience of existing and to boil it down, boil and boil away until there is the ultimate concentrate at the center that is what the poem talks around, at, etc., but never of, because it is ultimately made of language and cannot get to it. A poem is getting as close as possible to the speed of light, to absolute zero, to God, while knowing that it can’t get all the way there, and never will. A poem is doing this and coming back and showing what happened as it happened. Exegesis is hard because a really good poem will be just that, it will be the most basic and best way to say what it’s saying, so attempts to say the same thing differently will fail. A poem is a kernel of existence. It is a description of the kernel. <a href="arspoetica.html">It is</a>.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="and.html"
diff --git a/worse-looking-over.html b/worse-looking-over.html
index 9b3c45b..b00106d 100644
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@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Worse looking over | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
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+<body id="worse-looking-over" class="stark">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Worse looking over</h1>
@@ -40,7 +36,9 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content verse"><p><a href="moon-drowning.html">The radio is screaming the man</a><br />on the radio will not be quiet he is<br />pushed far into the background<br />while some NPR talkers murmur over<br />his screaming he lost something<br />very important. He says it over<br />and over but they do not listen<br />they think of their children at home<br />lying <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a> dreaming sweet<br />childhood one of them is staying over<br />at a friend’s house they are staying<br />up late they never want it to be over<br />not like the man. His life on the radio<br />will be the only one he ever has<br />his life it is wasted he’s being spoken over<br />such pain is in his voice. I wish you<br />could hear it. <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">It’s something never over</a>.<br />Suffering everywhere always and over it<br />the same serene murmur of the comfortable<br />distracted or worse looking over<br />the <a href="last-passenger.html">shoulder</a> and quietly looking away.</p></section>
+        <section class="content verse">
+            <p><a href="moon-drowning.html">The radio is screaming the man</a><br />on the radio will not be quiet he is<br />pushed far into the background<br />while some NPR talkers murmur over<br />his screaming he lost something<br />very important. He says it over<br />and over but they do not listen<br />they think of their children at home<br />lying <a href="in-bed.html">in bed</a> dreaming sweet<br />childhood one of them is staying over<br />at a friend’s house they are staying<br />up late they never want it to be over<br />not like the man. His life on the radio<br />will be the only one he ever has<br />his life it is wasted he’s being spoken over<br />such pain is in his voice. I wish you<br />could hear it. <a href="nothing-is-ever-over.html">It’s something never over</a>.<br />Suffering everywhere always and over it<br />the same serene murmur of the comfortable<br />distracted or worse looking over<br />the <a href="last-passenger.html">shoulder</a> and quietly looking away.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="love-as-god.html"
diff --git a/writing.html b/writing.html
index ed5da1e..2643eaf 100644
--- a/writing.html
+++ b/writing.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Writing | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
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+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
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-<body>
+<body id="writing" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Writing</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He sat down at his writing desk and removed his new pen from its plastic wrapping. He remembered how to fill it from <em><a href="http://www.elkonigsburg.com/">The View from Saturday</a></em>, which he’d read as a kid. It had been one of his favorite books. He remembered the <a href="swansong-alt.html">heart</a> puzzle they completed, the origin of the word “posh,” and most of all his fourth-grade teacher <a href="telemarketer.html">Ms. (Mrs? He could never remember)</a> Samovar. He smiled as he opened the lid on the ink well he’d just bought.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>He dipped his pen in the inkwell, screwed the converter piston up, and watched as nothing entered the chamber. He screwed it back down and up again, while dipping the nib more deeply into the ink well. He watched as again nothing filled the capsule. He screwed it down a third time. His thumb knocked the inkwell over somehow by accident.</p>
+            <p>He sat down at his writing desk and removed his new pen from its plastic wrapping. He remembered how to fill it from <em><a href="http://www.elkonigsburg.com/">The View from Saturday</a></em>, which he’d read as a kid. It had been one of his favorite books. He remembered the <a href="swansong-alt.html">heart</a> puzzle they completed, the origin of the word “posh,” and most of all his fourth-grade teacher <a href="telemarketer.html">Ms. (Mrs? He could never remember)</a> Samovar. He smiled as he opened the lid on the ink well he’d just bought.</p>
-<p>As he <a href="swear.html">swore</a>, stood up and away from the table, and went into the house proper for paper towels, he resolved to buy a typewriter.</p></section>
+            <p>He dipped his pen in the inkwell, screwed the converter piston up, and watched as nothing entered the chamber. He screwed it back down and up again, while dipping the nib more deeply into the ink well. He watched as again nothing filled the capsule. He screwed it down a third time. His thumb knocked the inkwell over somehow by accident.</p>
+            <p>As he <a href="swear.html">swore</a>, stood up and away from the table, and went into the house proper for paper towels, he resolved to buy a typewriter.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="leaf.html"
diff --git a/x-ray.html b/x-ray.html
index 2e2af08..e910a06 100644
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+++ b/x-ray.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>X-ray | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
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-<body>
+<body id="x-ray" class="paul">
    
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+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">X-ray</h1>
@@ -40,11 +36,13 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>While chopping a tree in the woods with his hatchet (a Christmas gift from his mother) a bird he’d never heard before cried out. He jerked his head up and to the right as the hatchet fell down and to the left. It cut deep into the back of his left hand. A low thud didn’t echo in the forest because all the needles and snow absorbed <del>sound well</del> the sound.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>When he got back to the house his hand wrapped in the end of his shirt he still felt no pain. He called for his mother and found her watching TV in the main room. He stayed in the kitchen not wanting to get blood on the carpet. She turned around cigarette dangling from her open mouth said “Oh god what happened.”</p>
+            <p>While chopping a tree in the woods with his hatchet (a Christmas gift from his mother) a bird he’d never heard before cried out. He jerked his head up and to the right as the hatchet fell down and to the left. It cut deep into the back of his left hand. A low thud didn’t echo in the forest because all the needles and snow absorbed <del>sound well</del> the sound.</p>
-<p>She drove him to the hospital in the car. <a href="worse-looking-over.html">The radio stayed off the entire way.</a> Paul wanted to turn it on but <del>he didn’t want</del> the desire not to annoy his mother was stronger. They drove in silence.</p>
+            <p>When he got back to the house his hand wrapped in the end of his shirt he still felt no pain. He called for his mother and found her watching TV in the main room. He stayed in the kitchen not wanting to get blood on the carpet. She turned around cigarette dangling from her open mouth said “Oh god what happened.”</p>
-<p>At the hospital after the X-rays and stitching and pain medication prescription the doctor said “You got lucky, son. If that axe had hit a half-inch lower you’d <a href="roughgloves.html">have lost your hand</a>. You won’t get full mobility back because we had to tie the tendons, but with therapy you should be able to work it pretty well.”</p>
+            <p>She drove him to the hospital in the car. <a href="worse-looking-over.html">The radio stayed off the entire way.</a> Paul wanted to turn it on but <del>he didn’t want</del> the desire not to annoy his mother was stronger. They drove in silence.</p>
-<p>On the drive back home all he could think was that he was glad he didn’t hit his writing hand.</p></section>
+            <p>At the hospital after the X-rays and stitching and pain medication prescription the doctor said “You got lucky, son. If that axe had hit a half-inch lower you’d <a href="roughgloves.html">have lost your hand</a>. You won’t get full mobility back because we had to tie the tendons, but with therapy you should be able to work it pretty well.”</p>
+            <p>On the drive back home all he could think was that he was glad he didn’t hit his writing hand.</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="yellow.html"
diff --git a/yellow.html b/yellow.html
index b58b669..b591944 100644
--- a/yellow.html
+++ b/yellow.html

@@ -12,23 +12,19 @@
    <title>Yellow | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="img/favico.png" />
-    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/common.css">
+    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
    <script src="./js/lozenge.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
    <script src="./js/hylo.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/prose.css">
+    <!--[if lt IE 9]>
-    <script src="./js/prose.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="./css/paul.css">
-    <script src="./js/paul.js" type="text/javascript"> </script>
-        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
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-<body>
+<body id="yellow" class="paul">
    
-    <article id="container">
+    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Yellow</h1>
@@ -40,9 +36,11 @@
        </header>
        
-        <section class="content prose"><p>He would enter data at work for fifty minutes and then go on break. He would walk down the hallway to the breakroom, which had a white <a href="feedingtheraven.html">refrigerator</a>, a black microwave on a brown plyboard cart stocked with powdered creamer, sugar, and swizzle sticks, a dark red coffee maker, and yellow paint on the wall. He’d remember that somewhere he’d read an article about yellow walls being calming. “They use yellow in asylums” he’d say to himself.</p>
+        <section class="content prose">
-<p>He would sit down at the round table covered in newspapers that took up the half of the room not occupied by the refrigerator, microwave, or counter with coffee pot and sink. He didn’t drink coffee but he would think about starting. He would shuffle the newspapers around on the table and see they were all the same ones as an hour ago. “Or technically fifty minutes ago” he would say to himself. Sometimes Jill would come in for a cup of coffee. She would always check that her lunch, which she brought each morning in a Tupperware container with a blue lid with her name written on it in black sharpie, was still there. Once he asked her why she checked.</p>
+            <p>He would enter data at work for fifty minutes and then go on break. He would walk down the hallway to the breakroom, which had a white <a href="feedingtheraven.html">refrigerator</a>, a black microwave on a brown plyboard cart stocked with powdered creamer, sugar, and swizzle sticks, a dark red coffee maker, and yellow paint on the wall. He’d remember that somewhere he’d read an article about yellow walls being calming. “They use yellow in asylums” he’d say to himself.</p>
-<p>“Why do you always check if your lunch is in the fridge” he asked. “I don’t” she said. “Oh I thought you did.” “I don’t think so.” “Why do you check at all?” “Once it was stolen out of the fridge and returned empty before I had a chance to eat my lunch” she said. “So you make sure it won’t happen again.” “No I’m waiting for the day that it does.”</p></section>
+            <p>He would sit down at the round table covered in newspapers that took up the half of the room not occupied by the refrigerator, microwave, or counter with coffee pot and sink. He didn’t drink coffee but he would think about starting. He would shuffle the newspapers around on the table and see they were all the same ones as an hour ago. “Or technically fifty minutes ago” he would say to himself. Sometimes Jill would come in for a cup of coffee. She would always check that her lunch, which she brought each morning in a Tupperware container with a blue lid with her name written on it in black sharpie, was still there. Once he asked her why she checked.</p>
+            <p>“Why do you always check if your lunch is in the fridge” he asked. “I don’t” she said. “Oh I thought you did.” “I don’t think so.” “Why do you check at all?” “Once it was stolen out of the fridge and returned empty before I had a chance to eat my lunch” she said. “So you make sure it won’t happen again.” “No I’m waiting for the day that it does.”</p>
+        </section>
    </article>
    <nav>
                <a class="prevlink" href="building.html"
author	Case Duckworth	2015-03-24 22:53:18 -0700
committer	Case Duckworth	2015-03-24 22:53:18 -0700
commit	df0d5f3cb03f8bf7d72e067c0fd7ee54ce4b86eb (patch)
tree	9cb3585e91c71e0d56bff5fb1f0d6c8dc5f8c093
parent	Disable Jekyll page rendering (diff)
download	autocento-df0d5f3cb03f8bf7d72e067c0fd7ee54ce4b86eb.tar.gz autocento-df0d5f3cb03f8bf7d72e067c0fd7ee54ce4b86eb.zip