From 643d9ceb308c206a6e572c7c555168ff0ca60bc1 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Fri, 27 Mar 2015 15:40:42 -0700 Subject: Fix #5: Verse typesetting Thanks to the pandoc-discussion thread at , line breaks in verse have been converted to s, which enables the CSS to style them with hanging indents, given a too-small viewport. This commit also includes a makefile edit to reflect this change, and the Haskell source and executable of the pandoc filter. --- 100-lines.html | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) (limited to '100-lines.html') diff --git a/100-lines.html b/100-lines.html index 327b1e6..37a4453 100644 --- a/100-lines.html +++ b/100-lines.html @@ -36,7 +36,7 @@
-

Whenever you call me friend
I fall down on my knees and cry
because I know it’s the only thing
never to happen before in this
life is something you can’t see
it’s a pillow under a hook shot
I want to tell you something anything
but you are there and I am here
we are trapped inside ourselves
and the distance is too far
you are something that I would tell
would be nothing before too long
you are not the finisher of dreams
you are the beginning of nightmares
or waking but I’m not sure which
this letter is for you in the future
it will lead you on the path
of goodness or of rightness or of
wrong people and right meanings
or the meaning will be hidden
or wrestling the demon I will have become
restless under the starlight
it’s too bright here to think
the negatives would be pitch black
darkness of a silver mine
there are no trees here
where have you been where are you now
I am no longer here or there
you are anywhere or are you
up in the clouds is a ghost
he is white and blue like a cloud
he paints with his teeth
he paints the rainbow before midnight
that you can see from your window
staring out under the sunlight
through the gauze curtains
over the high mountain far away
that is covered over with snow
past the rivers and forests
that lie awake under Orion
hunting the bull that runs forever
just out of his reach
pointing the way for the two of us
to join together in song or dance
or that other thing and sing
the Grinch down off Mount Crumpet
his heart breaking his chest
thumping with the beat
his little dog too running running
with the bull full of laughter and blood
he can’t see it anymore because it’s become him
we are trapped he says we are
trapped in ourselves it turns out
that all along it wasn’t you or me
but he and her or her and him or
he and he or she and she or they
even they tell us that nothing has happened
even they know that it’s a big joke
one more thing to know before the death
we are crying like crocodiles
before their loved ones’ coffins
we are bellowing with grief like buffalo
on a berth of wild oxen
we are wailing our clothes are in rags
we want we want we want
but never can we get
what is it
we don’t know what it is
but it’s something it’s anything
it’s too many people or not enough
it’s too few trees we need more
beavers to build riverdams we need
grapes too or plums from the ice box
or an ice box even would be nice
all I have is this cube isn’t that right
or is a sphere a cube a donut a coffee
cup your hands in mine yes that’s right
now bring the water to your face
clear and cool and
full of something
what is it wanting
or yearning
I can see in your eyes they’re clear now
they are as clear as a running stream
or the sky that’s clear right
or the water that is in the Bahamas
because I hear that’s clear
you’re as clear as the sound of a bell
you’re as clear as the braying of horses
you’re as clear as the glass in God’s eye
and I
I’m as dull as an ox plowing
through fields in his yoke
I’m as dull as clouded amber
I’m dull as you find me
tonight after dinner
I’m reading the crossword
you’re sitting beside me
you’re watching TV.

+

Whenever you call me friendI fall down on my knees and crybecause I know it’s the only thingnever to happen before in thislife is something you can’t seeit’s a pillow under a hook shotI want to tell you something anythingbut you are there and I am herewe are trapped inside ourselvesand the distance is too faryou are something that I would tellwould be nothing before too longyou are not the finisher of dreamsyou are the beginning of nightmaresor waking but I’m not sure whichthis letter is for you in the futureit will lead you on the pathof goodness or of rightness or ofwrong people and right meaningsor the meaning will be hiddenor wrestling the demon I will have becomerestless under the starlightit’s too bright here to thinkthe negatives would be pitch blackdarkness of a silver minethere are no trees herewhere have you been where are you nowI am no longer here or thereyou are anywhere or are youup in the clouds is a ghosthe is white and blue like a cloudhe paints with his teethhe paints the rainbow before midnightthat you can see from your windowstaring out under the sunlightthrough the gauze curtainsover the high mountain far awaythat is covered over with snowpast the rivers and foreststhat lie awake under Orionhunting the bull that runs foreverjust out of his reachpointing the way for the two of usto join together in song or danceor that other thing and singthe Grinch down off Mount Crumpethis heart breaking his chestthumping with the beathis little dog too running runningwith the bull full of laughter and bloodhe can’t see it anymore because it’s become himwe are trapped he says we aretrapped in ourselves it turns outthat all along it wasn’t you or mebut he and her or her and him orhe and he or she and she or theyeven they tell us that nothing has happenedeven they know that it’s a big jokeone more thing to know before the deathwe are crying like crocodilesbefore their loved ones’ coffinswe are bellowing with grief like buffaloon a berth of wild oxenwe are wailing our clothes are in ragswe want we want we wantbut never can we getwhat is itwe don’t know what it isbut it’s something it’s anythingit’s too many people or not enoughit’s too few trees we need morebeavers to build riverdams we needgrapes too or plums from the ice boxor an ice box even would be niceall I have is this cube isn’t that rightor is a sphere a cube a donut a coffeecup your hands in mine yes that’s rightnow bring the water to your faceclear and cool andfull of somethingwhat is it wantingor yearningI can see in your eyes they’re clear nowthey are as clear as a running streamor the sky that’s clear rightor the water that is in the Bahamasbecause I hear that’s clearyou’re as clear as the sound of a bellyou’re as clear as the braying of horsesyou’re as clear as the glass in God’s eyeand II’m as dull as an ox plowingthrough fields in his yokeI’m as dull as clouded amberI’m dull as you find metonight after dinnerI’m reading the crosswordyou’re sitting beside meyou’re watching TV.