A circular particle fiction! For the first time, the book led back to the book. 
Seems there aren't many references to fat French quails on the internet...
Cailles Replètes
Barbaric poems, where the fat quails sing
Their quailish songs and lay their speckled eggs,
Where syllables dance and staunchly refuse to conform
With any laid-down versifier's laws,
Where words erupt and wear their meanings large
And spreading wild beyond the corset-line,
Where words have beards and smoke illicit drugs
That draw deep down into the throat of truth,
Where words cut ice and slice through sense and time,
Where words engulf the world and nail our breath,
Which cut me short when seconds tick to nil-
© 2007 Jules Horne
12/11/2007
Christian Damour
Leconte de Lisle, 1973
p 49
I always said you were a poet in disguise!!
Posted by: Andrew Forster | November 14, 2007 at 06:41 PM