You know, if I _tried_ to write this stuff as poetry, it would surely be a disaster.  I'd likely be thrown out of the bohemian rathskellar reading room, soaked in coffee spewn forth in horror at the forced rhymes of my verse, since those that have been around BP long enough to remember the poetry thread know I like rhyming.  The hard part is the timing.

But thank you for continuing to point out that somewhere in there, Freudian-style, resides a kernel of rhythm.  I just wish I could dance.
____________________________________

Dan Becker, Exec. Dir., RHDC
Raleigh Historic Districts Commission
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-----Original Message-----
From:   Met History [SMTP:[log in to unmask]]
Sent:   May 6, 1999 5:45 PM
To:     [log in to unmask]
Subject:        Near-Haiku from Dan Becker

In a message dated 5/6/99 3:22:10 PM Eastern Daylight Time, [log in to unmask]
writes:

<<
As far as dust

dust is everywhere

ceiling won't matter.
 >>

Or, as cab drivers say "If car was stolen, then God say it not your car."

Signed,  Bud Ha