Monday, February 15, 2016

7810. THE SNOW IS IN THE WAY

THE SNOW IS IN THE WAY
Is that your car in the garage? And
doesn't it have to be? You can't just
go using anybody's. Those headlamps, 
I saw from a distance, looked like something
peering out, from fifty years ago. And now,
now everything's over.
-
I get so weary of reading old poetry  - working
the methods to death, all those old, nervous sorts,
plodding their way through their lines-by-lines.
Wordsworth and Swinburne combined. Heavy
sledding. I'd rather the ice I can just slide along.

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