Anagrammy Awards > Literary Archives > Mike Keith
Original text in yellow, anagram in pink.
A sonnet by a medieval poet of whom James B. Cabell was enamored (and so made translations of several of his poems into English). The anagram was a gift to my daughter, whose name can be found in the initial letters of its lines. |
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SONNET We are as harsh time molds us, lacking all |
REFLECTIONS Dust into dust, and so shall be his name, |
Words heard, by accident, over the phone O mud, mud, how fluid! -- What are these words, these words? Now the room is ahiss. The instrument |
Things seen, awkwardly, in her video phone O ice, ice, how knife-edged! -- What belie these visions, these visions? The disk salivates. The machine's shell |
Four-Gram-Word Text (from Will Shak. play) |
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Ages of Man All the world's a stage, |
MAN'S SAGA Come, live. Once born into this life, bawl. Rise, walk, jump, race, spin. Open mind, shun play, heed "Sirs". (Nuts!) Meet thin girl, Anna. Shun sexy slut, then find wife, Gail. Hail cabs, dial inns, send scan. Stay near nest till lean boys grow tall, Coin neat idea: Rise near noon. Idly till land. Tilt with dull fate. (Alas, chin nods, life ebbs. Walk away - rush over, shut, gone, near last gate. Dies Irae. |
Updated: May 10, 2016
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