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1 files changed, 16 insertions, 17 deletions
diff --git a/last-passenger.html b/last-passenger.html index b206483..4e0b1c4 100644 --- a/last-passenger.html +++ b/last-passenger.html
@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
1<!DOCTYPE html> 1<!DOCTYPE html>
2<!-- Template for compiled 'Autocento' documents --> 2<!-- AUTOCENTO OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE -->
3<!-- vim: fdm=indent -->
3<html lang="en"> 4<html lang="en">
4<head> 5<head>
5 <meta charset="utf-8"> 6 <meta charset="utf-8">
@@ -23,25 +24,23 @@
23 <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> --> 24 <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
24 </head> 25 </head>
25<body> 26<body>
27
28 <article id="container">
29 <header>
30 <!-- title -->
31 <h1 class="title">Last passenger</h1>
32
26 33
27<article id="container"> 34 </header>
28 <header>
29 <!-- title -->
30 <h1 class="title">Last passenger</h1>
31
32
33
34 </header>
35
36 <section class="content verse">
37 <p>Memory works strangely, <a href="roughgloves.html">spooling its thread</a><br />over the <a href="when-im-sorry.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>
38 <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>
39 <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>
40 </section>
41</article>
42 35
36 <section class="content verse">
37 <p>Memory works strangely, <a href="roughgloves.html">spooling its thread</a><br />over the <a href="when-im-sorry.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>
38 <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>
39 <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>
40 </section>
41 </article>
43 <nav> 42 <nav>
44 <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a> 43 <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> &loz; </a>
45 </nav> 44 </nav>
46</body> 45 </body>
47</html> 46</html>