Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Redneck Alexander Pope

It's something I've said in the past when asked to describe my poetic style in three words. It's ridiculous, that's why I like it. Alexander Pope wrote couplets; I hate couplets. Rhyming in that fashion just irks the hell out of me for reasons I don't understand. I have a few other sets of three words I use on occasion.

Monster, trust me

These three words are another option I use when people ask me to describe myself in three words. I don't belong much of anywhere, except in Church. My life is turning into a haze very quickly. I can't remember much of yesterday, and I'm determined to make tomorrow something to remember. I might sound good here, in my arena, but I'm not much of anything. These are the sands where my blood flows for the crowd. I can be a hero here, even if my real life is only pain on a diet of barley and beans disguised as medication.

Not Worth It

Three words for questioning life. I recently fought off a plagiarism charge in one of my classes. I'm a madman and a failure, but I'm not a thief. Somehow, my paper was stolen and turned in elsewhere; a week after I submitted it for class, it showed up in a community college in Florida. I'm looking at a pill bottle right now and wondering if it's worth a go. If the distance between words could substitute for time in thought, I would space this out in long drawn out sentences with unnacceptable punctuation. Unfortunately, this is all I have. I'm taking one; I'll take more later if I don't knock myself out.

This damn lie about me stealing a paper took up most of my time since Friday. That's why I haven't posted much here or anywhere else. About all I did over the weekend was frantically try to clear my name and read "Ode to a Grecian Urn" by John Keats; he's one of my dearest favorites. Truth may be beauty, but I live very far away from both. My beauty is pain. She's a glittering angel in a dark world with hazy surroundings. I can always find her nearby; if I breathe correctly, I can even enjoy it. How wrong is that? The worst part is that enjoyment is often my reason for waking up.

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