i'm just a literary tease, my reputation's on its knees.

Shakespearean Madness. Ouch.

February 15, 2005

Shall I compare thee to a Winter's eve?
You are certainly meaner and not nice.
Cold snow, fierce winds, HEY! why won't you just leave?
Your love is bitter, full of stinkin' ice...
Sometimes I imagine you growing old,
leathery skin, creaking joints, and a slump,
and woah baby it turns my blood so cold
to think of you aging and growing a hump!
I'd love to say I'll love you forever
Only, babe, you know I don't like promises
in fact, truth be told, i'll love you never
not even for a million dollar-ises.
Maybe you should move to Alaska. Now.
Cuz I'll never love you, no way, no how.

okay. I am -definitely- not Moira Shakespeare. It's just that I just read "Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?" and I was trying to imagine the exact opposite of this sonnet, the jist of which would basically be: "Hey, you are okay. but as soon as you get old, man, I am soooo outta here! Lata."

Moira at 09:48 PM :: Comments (3) :: ::

You know...maybe Shakespeare would have liked it. I think he has a sense of humor, albeit an Elizabethan one.

Posted by: Nessa at February 15, 2005 10:39 PM

You've really nailed that aging hoary wretch --
Though "dollar-ises" is a mighty stretch!

Posted by: Dennis "Blank Verse" Jerz at February 20, 2005 06:42 PM

Stretching the rhythm for all it is worth,
a skill most desir'd for an English major,
especially one in Creative Writing!
even a resort to such dirty tricks
as "dollar-ises" is worth something to me!

Posted by: moira at February 20, 2005 07:28 PM
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