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jheti
Holyshit poetry D:
Out, out, brief candle!
Nay, stay awhile, thou art so fair.
Down, wanton, down.
(Though the sedge is withered by the lake
And no birds sing.)
listen--there's a heck of a good universe next door; let's go!
Pardon any misquotes, will you? It's been a decade since I gave a damn and five years since I read any fancy books other than Twain or London, and those not recently, and they're not European enough, you know.
Frost doesn't count, he's not European EITHER, and I can only take him in small doses, neat, with bourbon, yes I'm serious.
Migraines do odd, odd things to my thought processes. ^_^
Out, out, brief candle!
Nay, stay awhile, thou art so fair.
Down, wanton, down.
(Though the sedge is withered by the lake
And no birds sing.)
listen--there's a heck of a good universe next door; let's go!
Pardon any misquotes, will you? It's been a decade since I gave a damn and five years since I read any fancy books other than Twain or London, and those not recently, and they're not European enough, you know.
Frost doesn't count, he's not European EITHER, and I can only take him in small doses, neat, with bourbon, yes I'm serious.
Migraines do odd, odd things to my thought processes. ^_^
