Wilyem Clark
01-04-2016, 11:16 AM
With each passing year
More people around me give in to The Dull.
The teasers I propagate annually
Go unanswered these days;
These perfect models of creative esprit
Imitate any and every work
Inspired by thought and riddled to ripeness.
They're tinkered with, trifled with,
Honed and honeyed, until at last,
At length, the puzzler's pains
Result in a birth.
Such infantile things, these intimate jests—
They should be ignored, but my modesty wilts
And pride demands some exaltation.
Should I not be alarmed when the brains of friends
Go slack, grow lax, gunk up with goo?
Those who read this, beware! It will happen to you.
More people around me give in to The Dull.
The teasers I propagate annually
Go unanswered these days;
These perfect models of creative esprit
Imitate any and every work
Inspired by thought and riddled to ripeness.
They're tinkered with, trifled with,
Honed and honeyed, until at last,
At length, the puzzler's pains
Result in a birth.
Such infantile things, these intimate jests—
They should be ignored, but my modesty wilts
And pride demands some exaltation.
Should I not be alarmed when the brains of friends
Go slack, grow lax, gunk up with goo?
Those who read this, beware! It will happen to you.