| I thought of writing a poem...
one of those poems.
One that criticizes,
subscribes to wit,
to belittle poetry.
Like,
breaking up lines
wherever it seems
appropriate.
Applying alliteration,
bombastic assonance,
Conforming to consonance,
and throwing in a little dissonance to seem too good for my own work.
But it felt cruel,
like picking on a kid
with big ears.
Too easy,
to just attack something that puts itself out there.
After all,
we were trained on those playgrounds,
to attack the bare soul.
To cover our unique nudity
with the same clothes as everyone else.
But if you were that kid,
you know,
the one the ears,
the short one,
the fat one,
the quiet one,
it's nice to know
that a bard saw fool's in paradise,
that a Skid Row drunk needed Dostoevsky,
and a doctor from New Jersey ate someone else's plums.
And what's wrong with being a part of that?
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| lily is fascinated whenever i whistle to her. smiles and joy at the simplest thing. why do we trade this joy for boredom?
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| in movies about ancient rome people always have british accents. shouldnt they have italian accents? |
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| ladies and gentlemen. i introduce the one word review. in which i sum up a craptacular movie one word. only the most shallow tripe will be subject to my minimalism. today's review: The DaVinci Code: Jesus. |
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