p o e t r y




. . . . . so then . . . . .
. . . . . let there be . . . . .
. . . . true nothingness . . . .
. . . . . . . . at last . . . . . . . .
. . . . to please me . . . .












ban the man 
fight where you stand 
n always have a back up plan 

alien space things 
fuck off you slimy bastards 
endless peace n joy 

 - t h h g t t g -
The Vogon began to read 
- a fetid little passage of his own devising.

"Oh frettled gruntbuggly ..." 
he began. Spasms wracked Ford's body 
- this was worse than ever he'd been prepared for.

"... thy micturations are to me 
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee."

"Aaaaaaarggggghhhhhh!" went Ford Prefect, 
wrenching his head back as lumps of pain thumped through it. 
He could dimly see beside him Arthur lolling and rolling in his seat.  
He clenched his teeth.

"Groop I  implore  thee,"  
continued  the  merciless  Vogon, 
"my foonting turlingdromes."

His voice was rising
to a horrible pitch of impassioned stridency.    
"And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts 
with my blurglecruncheon, 
see if I don't!"









a tree 
remembers every leaf 
underneath  









Venerable Woz









contemplation     contemplation     contemplation Dragons