The Grandeur of the Parking Lot (refrain by Young)
The leech gatherer gathers intelligence.
The alps are impassible but unreal.
Hannibal crossed the real
into a Turner. Terror
is not without pleasure. The adjacent passenger
ignites his Nikes and the imagination
overdraws. Penalty
is not without pleasure.
Sublimity cannot be exchanged,
but sublimity can be pawned.
Call it the noble pasture of the mind,
Which there expatiates, strengthens, and exults
Pascal couldn't handle the eternal
silence of the infinite parking lot.
Addison experienced vast
tracts of champaign country
in the comfort of his home.
Lockes's sight was comprehensive
only in the dark.
Ladies: smallness, smoothness, delicacy, variation, color.
Fellas: terror, obscurity, difficulty, power.
Shahida Wafa Idris made of her body a fountain of light!
Call it the noble pasture of the mind.
Which there expatiates, strengthens and exults
and dies.
Since Turner's peaks and clouds have dwarfed
the figures, the canvas is sublime,
right? I've only looked at it online.
Maybe you had to be there.
Maybe there's no there there.
Burke took great pleasure in his system
of color-coded terror threat alerts.
The parking lot inside us
is impassible, unreal.
Call it the noble pasture of the mind.
Which there expatiates, strengthens and exults
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