It would be pretty and poignant and pained and profound.
It would paint the star to persuade it to dazzle less.
It would please and purport to be perfect.
It would presume and perambulate in golden pastures.
It would practice at playing and pining and praying.
It would plummet to precocious platitudes
And penetrate Pennsylvania.
And penetrate Pennsylvania.
I don’t know why I’m posting this. Probably because I’m pissed and in pain. Pity I’m not a poet. And I haven’t a clue what the letter ‘P’ has to do with omega.
4 comments:
I like your inclusion of Pennsylvania. :)
I'm sorry to hear you are in pain. If i could give you a big hug i would. If you'd let me, hehe. I hope you get to feeling better very soon!
Oh, and i'm planning on starting your book tomorrow. I've just had a hard time concentrating on things lately.
Maria: Drunk as I was, I had the presence of mind to avoid the alternative. You should be asking how a platitude can be precocious. I might have added that I've been thrown from pillar to post this week, and back again. It would have been a good metaphor.
Andrea: That would be very welcome. I'll take it as done, and thank you. I have to say, though, I might not be the only one who got burned. I really don't know. I hope not. As for the book, it's just a personal journal really. Hope it doesn't disappoint too much.
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