Update: Goes without saying, I hope, that this was a joke. My ankle doesn’t seem to be broken, Qubit hasn’t bitten me, I have no intentions of having the site red and black forever, and Ryan isn’t running off with Loren…yet. Therefore, please forgive the horrible poetry :)
God, I hate the world. My ankle is turning so many lovely shades of rotting plum and bilious yellow that it’s next to certain it’s broken; the cat bit me on the face while I was lying on the couch in pain; and Ryan muttered something about Loren and thinking things over and went out for a long drive half an hour ago. I don’t have the energy to finish the fucking site overhaul, so live with it; it’s ugly and imperfect and human. Life is just a cruel joke, and the only thing that makes it feel worth living is poetry.
blackest damask
I hate you all
twisting sisters in the night rending
I hate you with a will
that breaks in any breeze
When will you come to me
In the angry light-dying
Crepuscule
that I may feel your blood
and know your day is gone
I hate you all
except the hatelight self
so brilliantburning sweet agonies
of fleshturned flame.
I bring you furies
and my wristcupped reds
o my hatredlove
drink deep
and end you⁄me love⁄hate…
end all
Comments
Ryan and Loren
I must admit, much as I like Loren, I just can’t picture him as the future mother of my grandchildren. (Even when I picture him with pigtails.)