Saturday March 12th, 2011

The exercise:

A four line poem about: the bookstore.

The clocks around here are going forward by an hour tonight. Normally I despise this, but this year I don't have to get up an hour early to go to work or school on Monday, so it's not so bad.

Kat and I went up to Kelowna today to do some shopping and check out their winter farmers market. We picked up some yummy bread and cheese, as well as some local beef and lamb. We're eating well this week. As usual.


He searches the shelves,
Not caring about cost;
He won't stop looking,
Though he must know it's lost.


Greg said...

I think we've got a couple more weeks before the clocks go back; my only gripe with it is that they go back just as it's getting light when I get up, giving me another month to wait.
The food sounds good! I've been making sourdough bread for the last month or so, and the difference in taste is astonishing -- it really tastes like bread.
Your poor narratorl I hope he finds his missing book. Though I suspect Henri is stood around somewhere blowing his nose in it....

The bookstore
Dusty, musty, dry, and the proprietor's high,
Sniffing formaldehyde in the back room.
Taxidermy, books all wormy,
An evil bookshop in a malignant gloom.

Marc said...

Mmm, homemade sourdough bread. Yum.

Love the reference to Worms. And I could read that first line over and over again :)