Sunday, December 11, 2005
An Ode to Zero Nil Nul
0 days left to my exam. (not counting today) It's tomorrow. Yesterday I read some essays on Melville's Piazza Tales which made me feel stupid. Read some poetry today, may try some more later. But mostly, I'm sick of reading. What's the big fat deal with poetry anyway?
. . . Poetry . . .
I don't get it
the stuff
Flies right over my head like
a puff in a
a HOWL of protest.
(and I didn't have to read Ginsberg, I only read about him)
NOOOOO! It doesn't rhyme
There's all kinds of slime time rime
in my head from
Not counting the dumb
Sill
Lab
Ells
in the right order
Free Verse? I think not.
(in-- out-- passé-- or avant garde?
oh for a bit of the Bard, any bard
pick one)
The bills
from all those books
caused ills pills gills dills
from the looks
I bought on line
Hook and sinker
What a stinker
I hate poetry.
Ah. Yes. My brain has turned to mush slush.
Updated to add: So, for a change of pace I pulled out my materials on Einstein's Theories of General and Special Relativity. Read them plus a little Newton thrown in just to start things off on the right foot, and now my brain is completely (well almost) empty of poetry. Ah, nothing like being distracted by physics. I'm sure that actual physicists would but laugh at me, but since they aren't likely to be avid enough readers of romance to find my blog, I think I'm relatively safe from ridicule. What's important is that I feel much better. I don't feel like reading literature, though. Or that other stuff that sometimes rhymes but often doesn't and never just comes out and says what it's about.
