Monday, February 25, 2008

Another Talia Tag

Talia tagged me again a few days ago, and while I didn't quite have time to respond at that precise moment, I did make note of where I was sitting at the time I first became tagged and what book was nearest by, so I couldn't be said to be cheating. Here's the rules of the game:

From World Class Poetry Blog

How to play:

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences. ( was a little unclear whether I was to start with sentence 5 or 6, but I doubt that the world will end because of my unclarity.)
5. Tag five people.

My nearest book: Legitimate Dangers, an anthology of poems edited by Michael Dumanis and Cate Marvin

Page 123, lines 5-7, from the poem Subway by Miranda Field:

burns. There is war. There always is. And words
go missing from the messages
that line these walls, signs papered over signs...

So now I have to tag five people. Okay. I tag Jesus, Jennifer, Vince, Neil and Ryan.

5 comments:

Talia said...

Well done. Good thing you didn't cheat.

Jennifer said...

Talia, I think you'll be proud of me on this one. And how do you cheat?

Talia said...

Cheating would be choosing a book that isn't near you, that might make you look better. But Charmi, the salt of the earth she is, wouldn't do that (because in the end, we all know it matters).

I'm sure all of Charmi's books would make her look good. (note the charm with which is oozing from me because Charmi supplies me with lots of good reading material.)

Charmi said...

Yes, incredibly charming. But looking good is always a function of the eye of the beholder and not the beholdee. Not all my beholders are amused or pleased with the books I sit next to. Today I'm sitting closest to my QuickBooks manual. Maybe that will even things out.

Vince said...

Charmi.

I'm just responding to the tag here. Thought it made more sense. Like a dog bringing the bone back to the master.

My nearest book: T.S. Eliot "Selected Poem"

Page 123, lines 5-7, from the poem "Choruses from 'The Rock'":

Out of the sea of sound the life of music, / Out of the slimy mud of words, out of the sleet and hail / of verbal imprecisions,


And those are the finding. I don't know five enough people to tag. So I leave it here, with you.

Cheers.