Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

9.29b

I slip down a slope of sex. I don't desist drug use. I roll right past the road for righteousness. I slide past a stop sign and stay in sin. All I am is alliteration and any affectations to asking assistance are axed.

Or at least that's the way I write my poems.

-the ghost of e. e. cummings

4 comments:

  1. The ghost of e. e. cummings would never use capital letters.

    Your post made his name strike me as ironic. That was a weird moment.

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  2. http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/606.html

    That's why. And whatever. I used capital letters and I didn't even write it as a poem.

    He did write poems about God but people don't know him as a Godly man, so whatever, I guess.

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  3. I get why now. I sort of wish I hadn't asked. The "love-crumbs" was interesting, though.

    Dredges.

    "Vizzinks."

    ReplyDelete