07 April 2011

7 came (too) easy via a prompt

Getting at the Really True Number

No water-drinker ever wrote a poem that lasted. –Horace

Our wearisome calculations have
ended the blue ( ) results may
only be farmed by nuns and water-
drinkers ( ) tolerant
in the long dream.
You cultivate indoor plants
we laugh, deathless. Until
the translation, meaning
molested. Hark!

(I used a prompt suggested by Robin at Kelli Russell Agodon's very cool Book of Kells.)

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