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My fluid, flint and wick all fail at once, And unlit cigarettes remain unlit For I have brought no matches. Clumsy dunce! My lighter makes a limpid plash as it Makes contact with the startled innocent lake. My Lesbia says Yes to love's blunt question, But no such answer can Catullus make, Desire contending now with indigestion. Arcadian dyspepsia is still Dyspepsia, by Pan! At Auto's helm, The heartburn stays and gnaws my bowels until We reach her house. O summer evening elm! Your buckled sidewalk jams against my toe. I hear you laughing as I gnash below. I wrote that when I was eighteen, for an assignment in an English class in college. It was an American Poetry class, and the instructor wanted to show us all how difficult it is to write a sonnet. I think he was hoping to instill a little "judge not lest ye be judged" in us, before exposing us to some of the dreck composed in the 19th century. Anyway, I later submitted it to the college literary magazine and they published it, along with a couple of other poems of mine. After the magazine had been out for about a week, a guy from down the hall in my dormitory stopped me in the middle of the college commons in the dead of winter (it was thirty below), and recited me poem to me word for word and told me how terriffic he thought it was. It was one of the greatest ego rushes I'd ever had in my life. I read it now, and can still feel a little rueful affection for it. I certainly had a way with rhythm - "Arcadian dyspepsia is still" is a beautifully musical pentameter line, despite the no-no of the end-to-end vowels between "dyspepsia" and "is."
6 responses total.
It sounds more than a little, er, Freudian to me. ;-) But mostly it's just straight-out classy. Just today I was thinking how I really should check out Story on M-net to see if Michael has entered anything recently. Such a pleasure to see it here.
michael, you've tempted me to post some of my own college workshop stuff...
Well, keats, I did & got one "I don't quite get this" type response. :)>
(wasn't me...maybe you oughta make chelsea bake you some chocolate chip cookies as a palliative for her comment...she's making a few dozen for grexers, anyway...)
Why? Her question was reasonable, as I remember. Just a warning that not *all* youthful efforts are worth posting.
hey, look, it's a shot at cookies...
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