[continued from the fifth fragment]
After his Ginsberg-Walt-Whitman conjunction rendition,
The Beat poet's bag of hashish reclaimed his attention.
As the Beat poet toked, I revoked, and reposed on my
Thoughts of our contrasting style as he easily got high.
This earthly beat poetry, arty and hip, would teeter
My mathematic precision and technical meter.
I had tasted his poetic and set my next venture
On seeing what would be the next-up poetry feature.
As he seemed to doze off into a distant tranquil haze,
A bus stopped at its stop. I boarded. That set the next stage ...
[this ends the sixth fragment*]
________________
* More to be published, as they are recovered from Blogosphere's backed-up blogs. -pt
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