A revision under advisement

New London's Poetry War Continues Halfheartedly.

Regular readers may recall that I published a "poem" about New London recently.  A passenger pigeon arrived on my porch with a slip of paper tied around its left leg.  "WK- We have to talk."

I dialed up a certain, reserved frequency on the shortwave, and an interesting tete-a-tete ensued.   Never one to engage in fisticuffs or foul language, and certainly not the kind of gentleman who would do anything untoward to a lady's reputation, I decided to let revision be the better part of valor.  Every hint of incriminating evidence has been removed.

With a tip of the fedora to the stars in New London's firmament.  If there is a spirit to New London, it plays the harpsichord in a Bank Street basement, telegraphing its intent across the cosmos.  A rising tide raises all schooners, no matter which way the flag blows.

Mare Liberum,
WK

Another link to the original post in question.