Hopefully everyone knows the e.e. cummings poem "in Just-/spring" (scroll down a ways) and I don't mean that in a you should know this one way, but that I hope life has brought it your way at some point. It's just that not too long ago I mentioned the goat-footed balloonman to someone I was sure would get it and they never had, so here. Happy Sacre du printemps.
Ed to add: and Happy National Poetry Month. I read poems last year and it didn't kill me, in fact it may have made me stronger, so I'll do it again this year. And so should you!
The grass has been mowed by the wee Beatlemaniac/Warcrafter under the most ineffective of pre-teen surly protests twice now and it feels like a bridge has been mutually crossed, old Goat-foot leading the charge, and when all seems like our compass points to "lost", she leave me this next to the drum kit.
She came back all "Well? Did you do your quest?" and I was like "What quest?" and she was all "OH! I forgot to write that part on the back!" and off she went in search of a pen.
The following songs are my weekend:
I had more, but it was just announced "You must do the quest or the end of time will reach!" So, OK, sheesh! I'm off the computer!
No comments:
Post a Comment