Don’t think just write
don’t think just right.
Sharing a late night red
with a tight wad muse
at five and fifty three before
the sparrows fart,
precisely.
Since when did beetles learn to upright themselves?
Put him to work then, shall I?
gfdx alt
hgfdx alt
gv space
jk comma space
f4 4 esz function
and he’s away
whoops!
don’t think just right
dont think, just fly
and watch your reputation
plummet.
November 7, 2009 at 3:43 am |
Aint it the truth!!!
Cheers on mate
November 7, 2009 at 10:03 am |
“sharing a late night red with a tightwad muse’ what a fantastic line! The whole poem is supercool. Concern with one’s reputation is a form of mental illness in that it divorces you from speaking the truth. This is a great thinking persons poem written like a song.
November 7, 2009 at 10:48 am |
reputation for what, really?
November 7, 2009 at 2:21 pm |
I’d like to hear this one… Very thoughtful. Thanks.
November 7, 2009 at 7:22 pm |
One can think too much I feel. So you like the exact time as well – precisely. If I stay up that late I usually can’t read the clock, as it’s just a blur. I tight wad muse is a brilliant touch. I think we’ve all had one of those.
November 7, 2009 at 9:04 pm |
Thanks everyone! You can see from my latest post that I have decided to take myself much more seriously.
November 9, 2009 at 9:48 am |
Yeah, I’d also like to hear this one out loud. Really dig the last two verses.
November 10, 2009 at 6:41 pm |
[...] different. The words have been hanging around my head for a long time and then I thought, Brad style, just sit down and do it – reputation on the line. It’s called Fairy Steps. Click here [...]
November 17, 2009 at 3:03 pm |
I like this very much indeed. Thinking and writing can often exist for me in a very precarious balance.
I never before thought about what it would be like to collaborate with a creature from the insect world…
November 18, 2009 at 7:13 pm |
Brad, only you can get away with saying “fart” in a poem and make it sound good!
what a fun, clever poem.
November 22, 2009 at 10:05 pm |
“Sharing a late night red
with a tight wad muse”
You and me brother, you and me. What is it about one-syllable words that is so poetic and powerful? You most likely know tightwad is one word but then it would be two syllables. Unacceptable in this case. And a wad muse can get very tight on red – wads by their nature being tight and not only tightfisted, musewise, even when they’re not staying up late on wine.
Thanks for the very cool poem. Loved it. Helped unsphincterize my muse a little, feels like, not such a tight wad anymore.