Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Eli Whitney Poem

I'm taking a small detour from talking about people named Eli Whitney, to show you this great poem about Eli Whitney by Tim Clarke:

The looms

so spread-eagle splayed,

fine harp, the weaver of hymns

God is listening

the cotton gin is marching

and we follow

Feral engines,

artificial hearts of pure-bred fantasy

beat deep in the chest

where so thoroughly buried,

so gently molested,

enjoy a subtle bending

times are harder

so we follow...

Anyway, to see the rest of this poem, you will need to check out Tim's website, where you can find this any many other cool poems. 

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