Monday, August 10, 2009

February: Year-day 34

February: Year-day 34 I love the sonnet, so blustery free, laughing in its chains, strong in its voice full of icicles, steam, crocodile eggs, me, voluptuous, concerned, impregnable, expecting visits from monsters, roots, gods, terrible in their urgencies, cold tides harrowing boats, docks, doctrinal frail clods, enterers of exits: we: race of prides. Such contrivances we envision, putting one over on ourselves every time, yet nimbly enough for our limited view, not needing true perfection, faultless footing, even if we don't let rats/insects get tomorrow. I hate the sonnet. Don't you? -

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Rhodingeedaddee is my node blog. See my other blogs and recent posts.