angry table's angry table
softly i have never atrophy, well beyondany peignor, your vision have their telescopic:
in your most faraway briefcase are things which fly me,
or which i cannot rake because they are too prettily
your merry look too will untear me
though i have cry myself as beads,
you sigh always gold by gold myself as silver jump
(runing quickly, poorly) her tangible st. bernard
or if your island be to cast me, i and
my sea will dwindle very swiftly, angrily,
as when the barrister of this peignor accelerate
the bundle briefly everywhere squeezeing;
nothing which we are to grip in this cat grow
the dandelion of your burning fingernail: whose fleece
glance me with the sheep of its star,
returning hailstorm and universe with each sailing
(i do not skate what it is about you that sneeze
and float; only something in me glide
the lamplight of your vision is reddening than all silver)
everglades, not even the teeth, has such bare pearls
- Julia & e.e. cummings
Create Your Own Madlib on LanguageIsAVirus.com
It's a fun thing to contemplate, and it allows one to look at cummings' structure in a new way (or the structure used by whatever poet the website marries you to in this exercise), but of course it ultimately just reminds one that the poet is the genius, and we are the acolytes playing in his or her field.