Thursday, January 13, 2011

mean-ass drunk

....not your typical lead in to a poem.

I started writing something yesterday that began innocently enough, philosophically enough.

But what is the beauty of philosophy, in a poem, without something wretched to compare it to? Hence, my lowest-common denominator psyche tosses in, for verite, I guess, a mean-ass drunk.

Mean-ass drunks being more common these days than the pure beauty and logic found in the works of, oh, I don't know, Aquinas or somebody.  Or the simple and clean approach of Occam.

Lot's of people write about ol' Occam.  I seem to find my fascinations in how spectacularly something or someone can fail, or, at very least fall, in trying to succeed, or, at least, just be human.

I could get all upset about that.  It could be a reflection on my self-esteem - except I know when I'm good, and when I suck. I think I'll just chalk it up to the meanderings of a twisted psyche.

No unicorns, or rainbows here today folks.

But, the snow outside is very, very beautiful.



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