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. --- sense-of-it.html | 8 ++++---- 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 4 deletions(-) (limited to 'sense-of-it.html') diff --git a/sense-of-it.html b/sense-of-it.html index fc19edb..df5e7ef 100644 --- a/sense-of-it.html +++ b/sense-of-it.html @@ -36,10 +36,10 @@
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I only write poems on the bus anymore.
I sit far in the back to be alone.
I mark black things on white things in a black thing.
I try to make sense of it.

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Every time I see a plastic bag in the wind I think:
This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Most of my life I relate to something on the TV:
This is how I try to make sense of it.

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The Talking Heads song “Stop Making Sense”
is about a girlfriend caught cheating and willed oblivion.
The song’s real title is “Girlfriend is Better”
but lying about it is a way I try to make sense of it.

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The day after I lost her I found you again.
Your face made a plastic bag of my heart.
Your eyes were the wind pushing the bus forward.
I couldn’t make sense of it.

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I only write poems on the bus anymore.I sit far in the back to be alone.I mark black things on white things in a black thing.I try to make sense of it.

+

Every time I see a plastic bag in the wind I think:This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.Most of my life I relate to something on the TV:This is how I try to make sense of it.

+

The Talking Heads song “Stop Making Sense”is about a girlfriend caught cheating and willed oblivion.The song’s real title is “Girlfriend is Better”but lying about it is a way I try to make sense of it.

+

The day after I lost her I found you again.Your face made a plastic bag of my heart.Your eyes were the wind pushing the bus forward.I couldn’t make sense of it.