Tuesday, August 11, 2009

February: Year-day 53

February: Year-day 53 [ George Washington is the central figure in this sonnet, but the story related is not true. ] And then there was this fellow named George. Oh, he was a general sort, though his tough mind-- well I remember it. Valley Forge. Snow and starvation. We slept together. Kind of him to have me. Didn't at all care he scratched and bit. That winter wasn't pleasant to any there: least, him, facing the air, the dead, and each one's desert of the present. No, I'm not saying he's better than most, though it's certainly not rum to accept defeats such as those. I wouldn't want to. Couldn't. George didn't give a holy host either many times, spitting his gall-kept words at us: flapping/ like a rotten boot. -

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