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"I knew nothing, and I persisted in the faith that the time of cruel miracles was not past."

— Stanislaw Lem, Solaris

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Thursday, March 10th, 2005

Update Thursday evening...

Update: I'm still working on my finances, but I expect to have things straightened out soon. Meanwhile, I've decided that one day of PaaT a month is going to be poetry day, as I like composing sonnets, and I have neither the blind ego to state flatly that my efforts are readable, nor the dishonest self-effacement to deny it. Also, I'm behind on artwork for this entry...

Here's one that I composed for a friend who asked me to send him a sonnet:

Where's your next sonnet? You might as well ask where
The partiarch stood when the lights went out,
Or query whence, with answer sans all doubt,
The corpse that in Grant's Tomb befouls the air;
Beseech a Gorgon to take note or care
Whence come the awkward statues strewn about,
Or ask of Custer, caught in sorry rout,
The source of arrows in his derriere.

The octave whines; emboldended the sestet
Employs the volta now with vigor; thus
Your sonnet now appears sans all regret,
For once embarked, the work was little fuss.
I'd rattle on all night if time gave let;
Odd sand grains birthing pearls of compound trust.

The sharp of memory may recall that I was once discussing setting up a poetry site, to which this might more properly belong; but as I intended for verse parodies, I think it fair to record my straightforward works here.


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