It's odd, because this week I was trying to find a bit of poetry for a thinger, and I was flipping through my meager mental archive for something that wasn't bleak, and It's really, really hard to find not bleak poetry. If you are me. I suppose people don't bother to write poetry when they feel especially wonderful... as a rule. I suppose they are off riding roller coasters or laughing with butterflies during tickle fights or something when they are all but shitting giggles... not so much with the poem writing. All my awful poems were always sad... or nearly all.
I did manage to find something by e.e. cummings that was either not glum, or I'm too much a philistine to understand it properly.
*deploys biorobotic, tame, non-scary arachnobot capable of infinite rope ladder weaving and excavation fueled by either oxygen, soil, water, or glum thoughts.*
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It's odd, because this week I was trying to find a bit of poetry for a thinger, and I was flipping through my meager mental archive for something that wasn't bleak, and It's really, really hard to find not bleak poetry. If you are me. I suppose people don't bother to write poetry when they feel especially wonderful... as a rule. I suppose they are off riding roller coasters or laughing with butterflies during tickle fights or something when they are all but shitting giggles... not so much with the poem writing. All my awful poems were always sad... or nearly all.
I did manage to find something by e.e. cummings that was either not glum, or I'm too much a philistine to understand it properly.
*throws a rope ladder down the hole*
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For I went deeper, deeper still...
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embrace!
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