![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetFred-like, twenty-four
hours through a shackled muse, all
five-seven-five-y.
Winter: wind and ice,
snowy trees bereft of leaves.
Forget hairstyling.
---
Get the issue out!
Finish editing and mail.
What we said last week.
---
Almost done, but wait!
Here's something we overlooked.
Send it tomorrow?
---
Trying to get home.
Tonight, it's the Bruins game. (*)
Fucking Fleet Center.
---
Warm when snow falls, but
cloying and rather nasty:
Dunkin' Donuts chai.
---
Sins in a past life:
stuck now in a crowded train
breathing flatulence.
---
Hypocaustic bliss:
Our kitchen floor is heated.
Sleep with the dishes?
---
Snow on the ground; a
fattening taste of summer --
fresh guacamole.
---
Wet latex and wire,
cotton gloves and memory,
Son-of-Ether prop.
---
Blow, thou winter wind,
frigid life-hating blasts -- but
I still want ice cream.
---
Dreaming of ghostly
apparitions of people
who aren't, I think, dead.
---
Won't get up early,
shovel and salt the sidewalk.
It will melt in spring.
---
Inconsiderate
trash men left cans in the street.
Almost missed my train.
---
What have I done wrong?
"Let's Hear It For the Boy" is
stuck in my head now.
---
Okay. That's enough of that.
---
(*) This works for nearly any weekday, year-round. Just replace "Bruins game" with "Celtics game," "Ice Capades," "Backstreet Boys," whatever you (dis)like.
hours through a shackled muse, all
five-seven-five-y.
Winter: wind and ice,
snowy trees bereft of leaves.
Forget hairstyling.
---
Get the issue out!
Finish editing and mail.
What we said last week.
---
Almost done, but wait!
Here's something we overlooked.
Send it tomorrow?
---
Trying to get home.
Tonight, it's the Bruins game. (*)
Fucking Fleet Center.
---
Warm when snow falls, but
cloying and rather nasty:
Dunkin' Donuts chai.
---
Sins in a past life:
stuck now in a crowded train
breathing flatulence.
---
Hypocaustic bliss:
Our kitchen floor is heated.
Sleep with the dishes?
---
Snow on the ground; a
fattening taste of summer --
fresh guacamole.
---
Wet latex and wire,
cotton gloves and memory,
Son-of-Ether prop.
---
Blow, thou winter wind,
frigid life-hating blasts -- but
I still want ice cream.
---
Dreaming of ghostly
apparitions of people
who aren't, I think, dead.
---
Won't get up early,
shovel and salt the sidewalk.
It will melt in spring.
---
Inconsiderate
trash men left cans in the street.
Almost missed my train.
---
What have I done wrong?
"Let's Hear It For the Boy" is
stuck in my head now.
---
Okay. That's enough of that.
---
(*) This works for nearly any weekday, year-round. Just replace "Bruins game" with "Celtics game," "Ice Capades," "Backstreet Boys," whatever you (dis)like.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-12-04 08:34 am (UTC)Ice cream in winter!
So few appreciate this.
I love your LJ.
no subject
Date: 2002-12-04 09:40 am (UTC)Trying to get home.
Tonight, it's a Red Sox game.
Fucking Fenway Park.
And:
I will kick your ass
if "Let's hear it for the boy"
Gets stuck in my head...
Re: you bastard
Date: 2002-12-04 04:05 pm (UTC)why, why did I "read more"? now it's stuck in my head too.
"Hypocaust" is one of my favorite words, probably because of Mary Stewart's The Crystal Cave.
Re: you bastard
Date: 2002-12-05 07:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-05 07:50 am (UTC)Eating ice cream in winter
is big in Boston.
Re: you bastard
Date: 2002-12-05 07:53 am (UTC)"Hypocaust" is certainly one of my favorite *things.* It's wicked cool, or rather warm, to have a heated floor. (The cats appreciate it as well.)
Only problem is that there is a great difference between the strips of the floor above the heated pipes and the parts that aren't quite reached by the heat -- step on a cold spot and damn!
no subject
Date: 2002-12-05 08:01 am (UTC)The B line when B.U. and
B.C. play hockey.