Totally distracting… “They’re like written speed bumps,” I intoned.
Intoned to the breeze opposite the pane while aimlessly thumb flipping through the bigger pictures. Because there are, thou, more than one. Endless pictures during an infinite time. On a seashell shore.
And then the milkmaids with their knotty braids and their cows milk. Dropping drips. And then the chewing cow chewed, chewed mildly like an unamused asshole. That he was. Lovely brilliant.
To conclude: “Oh, that was awesome! I loved when you were talking about that thing on the seashore and then the shells, too.”
I’ll have to say that wasn’t bad. I particularly enjoyed this verse…
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
I suspect it’s more the reading of bad poetry that I’m not a fan of.