Miserablism
FinsburyParkCarrots
Posts: 12,223
The man in the string vest barked at his dog, watching its jowls manufacture chewy glue around a squeaky ball.
“Cur, that squeak is a symbol of asinine, repetitious drudgery and I shall put it in a poem
Along with assorted references to the beans on toast I had for dinner, and again for breakfast every day since at least yesterday afternoon
And I will create a dirge of such utter, profound miserablism that will sound out one minor chord for ever and ever like a death knell in the graveyard where all the bones have been stolen,
Stolen by a cur.”
The dog nodded assent, dropped the ball of goo into the man's beans on toast,
Pawed a fatal tear in his vest,
and sauntered away to bugger next door’s cat.
“Cur, that squeak is a symbol of asinine, repetitious drudgery and I shall put it in a poem
Along with assorted references to the beans on toast I had for dinner, and again for breakfast every day since at least yesterday afternoon
And I will create a dirge of such utter, profound miserablism that will sound out one minor chord for ever and ever like a death knell in the graveyard where all the bones have been stolen,
Stolen by a cur.”
The dog nodded assent, dropped the ball of goo into the man's beans on toast,
Pawed a fatal tear in his vest,
and sauntered away to bugger next door’s cat.
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:shock: :shock: :shock:
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green