Saturday February 27th, 2016

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: the inscription.

Steampunk obsession continues. For reference, imagine mine carved into a stone that my narrator encounters after wandering aimlessly through the Wastelands for two or three days.

Spectacular late morning to mid-afternoon here today. We had lunch on the deck for the first time this year, and I was wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and sandals when I went into town shortly after that.

Of course, it still gets wickedly cold in a heckuva hurry once the sun starts to go down. But my goodness, is the sun ever glorious when it's hanging out in a clear blue sky.

Mine:

There is a town filled with beautiful women,
That only serves ice cold beer;
But concern yourself not with this place my friend,
For it is far, far from here...

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Lunch on the deck sounds very nice, and seems like it might even have inspired your poem as well :) Sounds far too warm and summery for my liking, but I find I miss the snow. And the rain if I'm truthful. Still I like the stone your narrator has found, and I like the attitude of the stone-mason who engraved it!

The inscription
Behind a worm-eaten cellar door we found a plaque,
Once forged from iron, now losing a war to rust.
That marked where phlogiston seeped from a crack,
And filled our avaricious souls with lust.

Marc said...

Greg - I can just picture you taking vacations from sunny Malta to visit rainy London. You poor thing :P

Hmm, that is a troubling plaque to encounter. Or, perhaps, by the point it would be discovered the discoverers would be too far gone to care too much.