Found a dope erasure poem in the latest issue of Shampoo. I am not going to paste it here out of respect of both parties in question, so click here to see an interesting take on Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet #43 that ends,
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints!—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.