Subject: vivacious custard
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Subject: vivacious custard
The country is so big you cannot say the countryhas the same October.
It simply never occurred to me that you would beinterested in knowing them.
The other flushed miserably and muttered:
Many people have that desire,
ForOctober has come again, but there has gone some richness from thelife we knew, and we are lost. Are youpleased with me or have I done something that was wrong? Thats what everyone is all dressed up about! Maybe thats what it takes to make you write a great play! I think it is easier for you to speakabout these things than it is for me.
Thats what everyone is all dressed up about! October is the season for returning: the bowels of youth areyearning with lost love.
Firedrives a thorn of memory in the heart. I get up in themorning and write, whether I feel like it or not. Of course there was nothing extraordinary about it!
I have come homeagain and found my father dead .
Have you ever thought, Eugene, that the great enemy of life maynot be death, but life itself?
And yet, at times, I run straight into a blank wall. Then the next day, when I come roundagain, the boy cried bitterly, what has happened? Tell her to go to hell if she getsfresh with you!
Are youpleased with me or have I done something that was wrong?
Why, then, did you attempt, to make something extraordinaryout of it? I get up in themorning and write, whether I feel like it or not.
You pump your friends dry and tell themnothing about yourself.
ForOctober has come again, but there has gone some richness from thelife we knew, and we are lost. Where the hell have you been keepingyourself, anyway?
FULL TEXT SPAM
Subject: vivacious custard
The country is so big you cannot say the countryhas the same October.
It simply never occurred to me that you would beinterested in knowing them.
The other flushed miserably and muttered:
Many people have that desire,
ForOctober has come again, but there has gone some richness from thelife we knew, and we are lost. Are youpleased with me or have I done something that was wrong? Thats what everyone is all dressed up about! Maybe thats what it takes to make you write a great play! I think it is easier for you to speakabout these things than it is for me.
Thats what everyone is all dressed up about! October is the season for returning: the bowels of youth areyearning with lost love.
Firedrives a thorn of memory in the heart. I get up in themorning and write, whether I feel like it or not. Of course there was nothing extraordinary about it!
I have come homeagain and found my father dead .
Have you ever thought, Eugene, that the great enemy of life maynot be death, but life itself?
And yet, at times, I run straight into a blank wall. Then the next day, when I come roundagain, the boy cried bitterly, what has happened? Tell her to go to hell if she getsfresh with you!
Are youpleased with me or have I done something that was wrong?
Why, then, did you attempt, to make something extraordinaryout of it? I get up in themorning and write, whether I feel like it or not.
You pump your friends dry and tell themnothing about yourself.
ForOctober has come again, but there has gone some richness from thelife we knew, and we are lost. Where the hell have you been keepingyourself, anyway?
a poem a dada keeps the nebula away
posted by WendyBuckWild at 11:18 AM
1 Comments:
Thorn(croft)Ave
October has come again, it is not the same October
I cried at the memory of my dead father
I feel dry as if life has lost its richness
Friends have come, most have gone
Maybe it is easier for you
But for me it is not
There is nothing extraordinary about it
But what is life anyway
But yearning for memory of love
Just lost youth
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