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A Poem for the Season(s)
04/18/2003
On Wednesday, Lane Core linked to a poem of his written on that day in 1988. I wish I'd seen it on Wednesday because, given the weather yesterday, it would have seemed prophetic! Well, who's to say what tomorrow will bring wherever you are; give it a read.
But Lane's noting the date of his poem led me to check a database that I set up a few years ago of my writing for any contemporary work that I might have. The oldest material I've got in there is from the fall of 1989, and most of it is no more carefully crafted than the pop melodies for which the lyrics were written. Here's the first verse of an embarrassing one from November of that year, displaying all of the wisdom of the 14-year-old boy who wrote it:
Sound of the End of the WorldLive happily here beneath a putrid gray sky
Trying to get a tan, cooking apple pie
Sip black water through an exhaust pipe straw
Working 9 to 5, eat my fellow man raw
I'd offer you more — for laughter's sake — but that is all I can bear to bare. In fact, you might do well to reread Lane's poem to clear your palate, as it were.
Posted by Justin Katz @ 01:57 PM EST
1 Comment
You are very kind. I thank you. Blessings to you and yours these holy days.
ELC @ 04/18/2003 03:22 PM EST