the last letter gets too little credit as the white letters roll on the black screen filmographies left out the bitter double acute angles for all they did was snooze and booze and looze frayed paperclips wiggle irrelevance on a digital age, whose cartoons joke about the sheafs of yezterday, zipping grips on leather binders pinching sneezes: zooming pheromonically into a vizual field taken apart without a sense of noze we fails the test of ya'll and me when our handshake is unaffected by the same earthquake, centuries prior Lisbon or otherwise, zapped into cognitive unbelief unshaken by zithers or zymphonies music was always to explicit for our taste when we are in it for the puzzle, an extra nuzzle, and the privilege of fizzling before dizzying lights