Sunday, August 29, 2010

To Josh, upon finding him absent to an opera on poetry night

While you were waxing operating
We at Alta were dramatic
In our woeful desperation
For poetic inspiration.
No rhymes would come; we all were wrecks
The thought itself's enough to vex.
And so until your full confession
We will suffer from depression
Desperate for poetry.
Please grant this fond wish for me!

Feb 22, 2009

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