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What is this life if, lacking wit
We halfbake slipshod, feeble shit
Bad spelling and worse punctuation
Tangled, garbled explanation
Rambling sci-fi plagiarisms
Magic, GM-organisms
Uninspired and overwrought
We foist each scant, substandard thought
On unexpecting
'bakers, then
WE DO THE WHOLE THING ONCE AGAIN!
The best inventions we can muster
Are, in a nutshell, lacking lustre
A poor life this if, dull indeed
We constantly get M.F.D'd
William Henry Davies: "Leisure"
http://www.blupete..../Poetry/Leisure.htm
The original. [jutta, Jun 02 2006]
Annotation:
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To paraphrase [Jutta], " where have all the sane people gone, and which way is the exit? " |
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[norm]All the sane people obviously found the exit! |
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