Midaregami

Yeah, I need to skip the rant and go straight to the poetastery. I always forget that.

O friend despair, o pall well-known
O lonely day, o night’s fell tone
Pray tarry, pause, illuminate
your fey design’s concealed fate
I full admit my ignorance
of abstract plans, of dull romance
No fire here, no burning breast,
All passion kept in locked chest
Restrained in manner, checked in bloom
In action, quiet, hope entombed
In autumn’s blazing crimson trees,
In autumn’s chill, in winter’s freeze
No season mars your dreaded, cloaked wrath
Nor sways your machinations from their path

I figure, if you’re wallowing in the depths of despair, you can at least have the decency to make fun of yourself.

September is here with a snap
Hot weather’s off taking a nap
And I feel morose
(And also verbose)
But mostly I just feel like crap

Of angst and regret I’ll say this
My ignorance would be my bliss
If only she’d gone
to France’s Sorbonne
At least I’d not know what I missed!

Japan’s like a drunk and a rake
Who’s witty, and loves you (it’s fake!)
The Japanese isles
are purely for trials
to see how much shit you can take.

The question, my friend, it is thus:
If buggered, will you make a fuss?
Reamed up the back door
by Japanese lore
I’ll tell you what I’d do—I’d cuss!

That is all.