My dear poet sir, I'll have you know the previous commenter was not being rude (despite how it may have sounded), he was merely here to offer sustenance. He has cream cheese. He has steak and eggs.
Humble moi (conversely), bowing before the superior genius of the work here generously set before us, can offer nothing to the querulous poetry gods save rue and aloes, left over from the ample stores I have put in for this season of lamentation, or was it to be celebration?
The duck who quacks last gets the last quack, in any case, maybe, as Confucius said.
does it hurt to be you?
ReplyDeleteAll the time but I'm only being myself--you?
ReplyDeleteMy dear poet sir, I'll have you know the previous commenter was not being rude (despite how it may have sounded), he was merely here to offer sustenance. He has cream cheese. He has steak and eggs.
ReplyDeleteHumble moi (conversely), bowing before the superior genius of the work here generously set before us, can offer nothing to the querulous poetry gods save rue and aloes, left over from the ample stores I have put in for this season of lamentation, or was it to be celebration?
The duck who quacks last gets the last quack, in any case, maybe, as Confucius said.
Erm, what I meant to say, before getting run over by the food wagon, was, Terrific poem, Vassilis.
ReplyDeleteI mean, do I have to spell it out for you?
T-E-R-R-I-F-I-C.
Monsieur,
ReplyDeleteYou have transmogrified a modest dish of Peking duck into a bewitching offering fit for any gourmet’s critical poetic palate--merci.