palmerpink

I made some friends last night; two of whom individually went on marvelous talks about grammar with me, and one of whom chatted authors and writing, too. It was fantastic :-) What's sorta amusing is that even before I met them I was in a bit of a literary mood. I had some time to kill, and I was already hanging at the Dupont Starbucks, so I scribbled out some poetry. Some of it actually turned out pretty nice. I'll have to poke at it with a colored pen a bit, but maybe I'll have something typed and viewable on the lit blog I'm always neglecting. EDIT : Surprise! I actually did get one typed up . I added to the written draft when I typed it (typical), but when I accidentally deleted the last third and had to reforge it, it came out even better. I'm actually pretty happy with this'un. Hence coming back and adding this lil post scriptum . So you should totally go read it . As I mentioned in the preambling notes, there's another, longer, more interesting...

Earlier, I transcribed a draft of a poem on my litty blog extolling the reasons and ways I hate April. Probably, or eventually at least, less pretentiously/tritely than that sounded. Regardless, here's a bit of a conversation/rant I had that explains my loathing of April as "The Cruellest Month": (04/01/2011 08:01:51 AM) unwitting friend: why april? (04/01/2011 08:09:10 AM) Palmer: as i just quoted on mah twitter... (04/01/2011 08:09:53 AM) Palmer: "April is the cruellest month, breeding/Lilacs out of the deadland, Mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain." (04/01/2011 08:10:34 AM) Palmer: it's when people's hormones get reawakened, all those lovely flowers and cherry blossoms start coming back, and everyone wants to go out into the world and display their coupling might (04/01/2011 08:11:17 AM) Palmer: and on other days it's rainy and dreary, giving me time to remember & sulk about how, unlike everyone else...