MinionOfBoredom
09/01/09, 12:32 PM
In the morning I shall be a poet
and reflect metaphors like moonlight
off the ocean in the mirror's iris.
In the afternoon, they will call me a scholar.
I will twirl the string between quantum and metaphysics
on the horsetails of Darwin's flowerbed.
By eventide, I will be a cynic.
I will begin to wonder why, but more importantly
why the hell I'm writing this shit, anyway.
Come nightfall, I am a whore.
The smell of the pillow will remind me of something distant
and nostalgic, and it will be my metaphor for the verdant morning.
and reflect metaphors like moonlight
off the ocean in the mirror's iris.
In the afternoon, they will call me a scholar.
I will twirl the string between quantum and metaphysics
on the horsetails of Darwin's flowerbed.
By eventide, I will be a cynic.
I will begin to wonder why, but more importantly
why the hell I'm writing this shit, anyway.
Come nightfall, I am a whore.
The smell of the pillow will remind me of something distant
and nostalgic, and it will be my metaphor for the verdant morning.