Angstrom Phillip Woodwim

Ben-Fulton in the Mist

Figures in windows with grass coming out of them;
Ben saw the river, water-ful and pulling with the moon
The moon in a coffee spoon, swooning with the lady
The lady counting sugar cubes
Cubes of mathematics
Because she was lonely
Lonely in the mist near the river with the figures
In windows with grass coming out of them.
Petite femme dans le gazon, aime moi,
Comme ces figures dans les fenêtres
Avec du gazon et la lune et le sucre en cube
Dans ma cuillère dans ma tasse le matin;
Tu es mal-odorante. Ma femme mon amour
Dans la brume qui marche.
Wo wohnst du, mein bitte kleine fraulich!

To Woo

Not John Woo. He is my enemy.
I have heard the flight of
Fiery bullets in the night
Through the very essence of my being
I have many masks, and one vision
Of birds boring into my brain
My skull cavity transpersed
Transversed, violated, for I have
In one man, found my nemesis.
He is John Woo.
Every man is so special. But John Woo.
He is evil.

Angstrom Phillip Woodwim (1819-2026) was born in Manchester, Kentucky, in a small baseball park overlooking a town. On a beautiful morning in August 1917, Angstrom found a minute (read: small) time machine on his porch and travelled back to 1775. He never returned. He wrote black poetry on sheets of granulated paper which he had customcrafted by the smith of the Indian village in which he never perished, later to be read by mankind, better than Shakespeare, for whom he had no respect. But he loved Queen Elizabeth. Ben Jonson, once wrote of Woodwim: "He truly is of this age. For many years birds on his balcony crapped on his poems and his neighbors burned his books (several times he was burnt at the stake by angry villagers) and for his blasphemous poetry, women shunned him and gave him smallpox. He is a true luminary, the precursor of the french movement led by Charles Baudelaire. Although his poems were all written in german, and his toes were not unlike Yeats' toes, his poetry was never recognized in Ireland."