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Diffstat (limited to 'found-typewriter-poem.html')
-rw-r--r-- | found-typewriter-poem.html | 14 |
1 files changed, 8 insertions, 6 deletions
diff --git a/found-typewriter-poem.html b/found-typewriter-poem.html index 507d53f..5bbfc92 100644 --- a/found-typewriter-poem.html +++ b/found-typewriter-poem.html | |||
@@ -34,13 +34,15 @@ | |||
34 | <h1 class="title">Look</h1> | 34 | <h1 class="title">Look</h1> |
35 | <h1 class="subtitle">a found typewriter poem</h1> | 35 | <h1 class="subtitle">a found typewriter poem</h1> |
36 | 36 | ||
37 | 37 | <div class="header-extra"> | |
38 | <!-- epigraph --> | ||
39 | <div class="epigraph"> | ||
40 | <p><a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=ALdlAAAAMAAJ&focus=searchwithinvolume&q=older+than">Is he older</a>? 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.</p> | ||
41 | 38 | ||
42 | </div> | 39 | <!-- epigraph --> |
43 | </header> | 40 | <div class="epigraph"> |
41 | <p><a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=ALdlAAAAMAAJ&focus=searchwithinvolume&q=older+than">Is he older</a>? 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.</p> | ||
42 | |||
43 | </div> | ||
44 | </div> | ||
45 | </header> | ||
44 | 46 | ||
45 | 47 | ||
46 | <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> | 48 | <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> |