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Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Sonnet CCXIX

I beg to differ to the fact that Hell is hot:
I say that Hell is cold as Hell – and just as mean.
It’s holding ladders for my Dad, as up he leans,
to put up Christmas lights on eaves with hooks we bought.
We move the leaden ladder to and fro a lot,
like frozen crabs a-scuttling to the yells of fiends.
Eventually, my fingers turn a lovely green,
my hat is itchy, legs are sore, my mind is fraught.

And still there’s half a way’s to go, a “wee” bit more…
I suffer, freezing, as the snow begins to pour.

I’m bitter, wondering why such a holiday
is celebrated with such foul means as this.
And then, sadistic snakes of wind begin to hiss,
as moaning, in my sadness, shout I, “Woe is me!”


  1. Time to work on scheduling yourself very busy in January to escape taking the lights down....

  2. Well...I shall be writing school exams in perhaps I'll be let free?

    I was also going to finish up the exams for my piano diploma by writing two three-hour theory exams in December and playing my one-hour piano performance exam in January...but rats! I'm not going to until May/June! I should have registered for them in January! :P


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!