rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Itchy and Scratchy

Three things about today:
It was hot.

There were butterflies.

Someone fired up a barbecue.


Also, I'm now sporting my first mosquito bite of the season. The frogs are not doing their job. Though I made sure that there has been no standing water in my yard, some neighbor must have been careless. Now I am bitten and will probably develop a fatal disease. Curse my careless murderer. If I survive, I have to go to the dentist tomorrow and get abused. They call it cleaning. The hygienist will discover that a bit of the amalgam from the filling placed in my wisdom tooth late last year is gone (I remember it falling out sometime ago and I've been in denial ever since), and they will make an appointment for me to be even more sorely abused some day soon. I am displeased. Thinking about it while scratching my itchy mosquito bite has quite spoiled my day. April's down side. Here's some Parker:


Sunday Verse

A Well-worn Story


by Dorothy Parker


In April, in April,
My one love came along,
And I ran the slope of my high hill
To follow a thread of song.

His eyes were hard as porphyry
With looking on cruel lands;
His voice went slipping over me
Like terrible silver hands.

Together we trod the secret lane
And walked the muttering town.
I wore my heart like a wet, red stain
On the breast of a velvet gown.

In April, in April,
My love went whistling by,
And I stumbled here to my high hill
Along the way of a lie.

Now what should I do in this place
But sit and count the chimes,
And splash cold water on my face
And spoil a page with rhymes?
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