I aimed my octaves
into the nightscape
toward her house
where she scuttled away
and shuttered up
against my hearty serenado.
Fluttery arpeggios
wasted away into
thinning (and chilling)
climate like so many
sour little flatulets
despite ellicitations into
her brittle indifference.
"I need soothings of Mahler!"
she said into her hot-line
to the police precinct,
"Mozartian whinnies
and baroque bum blasts
do nothing for my libido--
come immediately!"
Author notes
I was just having a litle fun ith this one-- nothing very profound intended, but maybe a sharp critic csn see something in it.
Written November 29th, 2002
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LOL... rejection comes in so many forms. We sing our hearts out, we walk on hot coals, and yet...
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