Image via Getting things done in Academia
I had off from work, and I spent all day on this blog, and on other's blogs, trying to fish out good poetry. It has left a desperately unsatisfactory feeling. Here is my diagnosis:
The endless reels of words
And on a little crest
A blogger pokes his nose out
In a little spray of froth
Someone's half-hearted soul
Has found a partial birth
Someone's messy underwaters
Find an amphibious crawl.
Tomorrow I am going to do anything but blog.
The endless reels of words
And on a little crest
A blogger pokes his nose out
In a little spray of froth
Someone's half-hearted soul
Has found a partial birth
Someone's messy underwaters
Find an amphibious crawl.
Tomorrow I am going to do anything but blog.
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